Veiled Truths
by Inis'sPromise
Summary: Dumbledore has many secrets, not just the prophecy. I'm talking about the dark-haired, brilliantly green-eyed first year girl that appears in Harry's fifth year. Who is she? She can't be related to Harry, can she? And how can she See the past, present, AND future? Features Powerful!Brotherly!Harry. And Powerful!Brave!OC. Misguided, but still good Dumbledore. Slow build. OC-centric
1. Letters and Warnings

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is to JK Rowling as the Invisibility Cloak is to Harry. **

**A/N: Hellooooooo! I must say to all that I'm American, so I will do my *very best* to adopt a British vocabulary to my writing. Having read MANY Harry Potter fanfics (as well as the actual series too many times to count), I have picked up some British phraseology and will try my absolute hardest to apply it to this story and all the other Harry Potter fanfics that come after it. **

**As the main character, Cass, is a first-year while Harry is in his fifth year, I have taken creative liberty and just made up most of her class (only two are actually mentioned in the book, and both have absolutely no impact on the plot whatsoever). **

**Next order of business, the pairings. For Harry and his friends, I plan on having their pairings to remain the same. For Cass, she is literally eleven years old. She doesn't need a boyfriend. **

**Finally, I need to address my uploads. I'm not a very busy person, so they will probably be often. However, I'm also not a very organized person, so they will be sporadic as well. Not to worry, I promise I will get one done at least once a week. But I may upload on random days just for the heck of it—probably because I get bored very easily and I love writing. So, expect one...hmm…let's say every Saturday, but don't be surprised to find that I've uploaded a new chapter at 3AM on a Wednesday.**

**Without further ado, let's see what happens when you mix brotherly love, seeing the future, a witty eleven-year old girl, and one raven-haired, green-eyed boy…**

OoOoO

_A rather large boy and another boy, this one very skinny, walked down a street. It was twilight, and the boys' faces were indistinguishable. They boys walked apart and looked to be bickering, making it unclear whether they liked each other or not._

_The skinny boy was very upset over something the large boy had said. Suddenly, the skinny boy pulled something from his jeans, pointing it at the other boy. Upon closer examination, the skinnier boy had an intricately carved stick at the other boy's throat. _

_Blackness engulfed the scene. Cold seeped through the air, and the larger boy whimpered. A rotten, decaying smell filled the area. The smell of death. _

_Two figures approached the two boys. The figures floated above the ground, clothed in black and hoods pulled up._

_Hands reached towards the boys. Blackened hands meant to strangle, to choke, to kill. _

_With a cry, the skinnier boy released a jet of silver from his stick. The silver took on a form, the form of a large animal. _

_The silver animal chased away the hooded figures. With the hooded figures went the darkness, the cold. The feel of death. _

_The boy turned and startling green eyes filled the dreamer's vision. _

Cass woke with a gasp, her breathing labored. _Just a dream, just a dream, _she chanted to herself. Cass rolled over to the side her lamp was at and turned it on, flooding the room in warm light.

Cass blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light. She glanced at her clock. It read six-thirty in the morning. Cass groaned; too early to make breakfast and too late to go back to sleep. Not that she could. Not after a nightmare like that.

Swinging her legs off the bed, Cass grabbed a hair-tie from her nightstand. She tied her long, dark hair into a low ponytail before tugging on a sweatshirt and walking over to her small desk.

Cass pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. Absently, she started to draw the dark figures from her dream. Just as she finished the sketch, sunlight peeked in through her partly closed blinds and Cass got up, stretching, and left her room.

She walked through the dark, one-story house, stopping at the back door. Cass tugged on her Reeboks and opened the back door as quietly as she could. She crossed over the still semi-dark yard to her favorite place to think: a tall pine tree that she had fondly dubbed her 'Thoughtful Tree'.

With the ease of years of practice, Cass scaled the tree, stopping about thirty feet from the ground. Propping herself on a branch— and making sure she was nice and comfy—she pondered her dream. _I wonder what caused it_, Cass thought. She didn't really care, though. It was just a dream, after all, no matter how disturbing it was.

Cass sat there for a few minutes, watching the sun rise. A slight breeze made the branch sway. Cass only gripped the limb with her knees, smiling as the branch rocked her.

A few minutes later, Cass's stomach rumbled. _Time for some breakfast,_ she thought. Cass started to climb back down, thinking that she would make eggs. Grandma Joyce loved eggs. Oh, how she would yell if she knew Cass was up here, climbing trees before Cass's grandparents were up. Of course, Grandpa Jimmy would say that Cass hadn't gone high enough, that Cass was wimpy, and ruffle her hair to show he was joking.

The thought of her grandparents made Cass smile. Sadly, they weren't her actual grandparents. They weren't even related to Cass (at least, not that she knew). But they were the best people anyone could grow up with. Cass had been left at the fire station only a few hours old. A few hours! Who left a baby at a fire station that had only been in the world _for a few hours_?! Thankfully, the idiot had had the decency to call the firefighters upon leaving Cass in a _blanket _at the door.

By some twist of fate, Jimmy McGarther had stopped by to say hello to an old friend that very day, and, long story short, a baby girl had found herself in a loving and caring home.

Cass was jolted out of her reverie by her feet slamming into the soft ground; she had jumped from her Thoughtful Tree. She quickly hurried back into house, ready to make breakfast in bed for her grandparents. Cass had taken to doing this, as well as most of the other household chores, ever since Cass found out about Grandpa's…sickness. Cass refused to continue that train of thought. Her grandparents are getting old and need to rest and relax, not be working. That was it. Nothing else to it. Besides, Cass really didn't mind. It wasn't that big of a house and rarely any messes were made, so it didn't really matter.

Cass glanced back at her tree sadly. It was going to rain today, so Cass would have to spend the day inside, doing absolutely nothing and being bored out of her mind. _Great_, she thought. Don't ask Cass how she knew it was going to rain, because she couldn't tell you. However, she likes to think she has good instincts, thank you very much.

Cass went inside, closing the door as quietly as possible and locking it. She walked past her grandparents' room, stifling a laugh when Grandpa Jimmy snored in a tune that sounded suspiciously like Mary Had a Little Lamb. Oh, even asleep, he made her laugh.

Cass walked into the kitchen and turned the stove on. Without even looking down, she stepped over their ancient cat, Libby. She opened the cabinet, again being very sneaky, and took the kettle out for tea. After pouring water in the silver kettle, she set it on the stove. Hopefully, her grandparents would be up before the tea was ready.

OoOoO

Later that day, as Cass was watching the telly, a most unusual thing happened. Cass saw an owl flying outside the living room window. _An owl? It's the middle of the day! And raining to boot!_

Cass quickly walked to the front door and wrenched it open, earning a curious look from her grandma. Ignoring the look, Cass peered through the rain, trying to see the owl. She turned her head to the left, knowing she would see it. Sure enough, a tawny barn owl flew up to the door, dropped an envelope at Cass's feet, and flew away into the rain, soon disappearing in the rain.

Cass just stood with her mouth open, shocked. _What? Just…what? _Grandma Joyce coughed gently, snapping Cass back to reality. She snatched the letter off the welcome mat, slammed the door, and muttered something about seeing a bunny out in the rain before realizing it was just a mushroom in response to her grandmother's raised eyebrows. Her grandma just shook her head and returned to her knitting.

Cass ran to her room and plopped on her bed, dying to read the mysterious letter. She wondered about the owl out in the rain-that was most certainly _not _normal behavior. Shrugging it off, she looked at the envelope. It was addressed to _Ms. Cassandra McGarther, The Room Next to the Kitchen, 94 Seere Lane, Whitefield, Manchester. _

Cass's mouth slowly fell open again. _The Room Next to the Kitchen_? she thought. _How do they know_? She opened the letter, her hands shaking, and read its contents.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry_? Just like that, Cass lost interest. It was a prank. There was no such thing as magic, and if there were, there was no way to hide it. _You could hide it with magic_, Cass thought. _Shut it, Cass. Magic, really? Have you gone barmy? _

Her mood ruined, Cass threw the letter in the rubbish bin. "Git," she muttered, referring to whoever had sent that letter. That owl had obviously been trained to do that. Any other explanation included magic, and Cass just couldn't believe in magic. Not when her grandpa could use some magic right now, and believing in it would just result in getting Cass's hopes up. She sighed, dried her eyes from tears she hadn't known had appeared, and got up to go make Grandpa's favorite dinner: macaroni and cheese. How he loved macaroni and cheese.

OoOoO

Harry walked out of his trial, feeling intense relief. Mr. Weasley was waiting for him outside. Dumbledore and his bright robes followed Harry out. Before Harry could walk over to Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore grabbed Harry's shoulder firmly, but gently, turning the boy around.

Harry looked up to Dumbledore and was about to thank him for clearing his name when the older wizard said, "Harry, my boy… prepare yourself. Surprises lurk around every corner, not all of them bad, but some mind-shattering. So… be prepared, my boy." Dumbledore met his eyes for only a second, a look of deep sorrow on his face. Harry's scar flared painfully, and Dumbledore walked away, pausing only to nod politely to Mr. Weasley.

_What did he mean, 'be prepared'? _Harry thought, mystified. Suddenly not feeling very happy anymore, Harry walked over to Mr. Weasley. Seeing the look on the young boy's face, Mr. Weasley decided to give Harry his space, and led him out of the Ministry.

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry pulled Ron and Hermione into his and Ron's room, shutting the door. Fred, George, and Ginny could still be heard singing, "_He got off, he got off, he got off!" _

"Harry, mate, what is it? You look so glum. You got off! You should be celebrating, not moping!" Ron said, plopping down on the bed.

Harry looked both of his friends in the eyes before telling them what Dumbledore had said after the trial. Hermione's eyebrows slowly pulled closer together. Harry could almost see the gears turning in her head.

Ron looked troubled, "What do you think that means? What surprises? What else did he say?" he asked.

"Nothing, that's it. It was so strange. He barely looked at me during the trial and only met my eyes for a second. He looked…sad. Very sad," Harry replied.

"You're sure he didn't say anything else? Anything about You-Know-Who? Or about that thing all those Order meetings are about?" Hermione questioned, swatting away Pigwidgeon, who was pecking at her bushy hair.

"No! I told you everything he said!" Harry said, exasperated.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Well, what does it mean?" he demanded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Sure, Ron. Let me just get my crystal ball and decoding book, and I'll figure out Dumbledore's secretive hints."

Harry chuckled despite himself and said, "It means that there is going to be a big surprise this year."

"Or many surprises," added Hermione, all sarcasm gone from her voice.

OoOoO


	2. Explanations

DISCLAIMER: The amount of money I make off of this is equal to the number of times Hermione has said, "Books are for losers."

A/N: Helloooooo! Yes, I am uploading again so soon after the last one. I just love writing and this story needs some more chapters under its belt. Also, in case there was any confusion about the cover art, Time-Travel is an aspect of this fic, but this is _not_ a Time-Travel fic. Don't worry, all will be explained…eventually (evil laugh).

Please feel free to review. I need all the help I can get, as this is my first fanfic, which makes you my first readers…yay you, I guess.

OoOoO

Cass was getting _very _annoyed. As she sat up in her Thoughtful Tree, watching the sunset, she fumed. Who was sending all of these letters? Why so, so, _so _many of them? Cass could understand sending first one, maybe even laugh a little. It was a good prank. But the next _twenty_? Over the next few _days_? Who had the time—and the motivation—to send letter after letter about a fake school?

It was like they were mocking her, baiting her. Her grandpa could use some magic right now, and then magic letters show up. Who was so cruel? Cass's eyes smarted painfully, in a way she had come to dread over the last few months. The way they always did when something…odd was about to happen.

Cass's eyes widened. Quick as a flash, she grabbed the branch above her head with both hands, bracing herself. The branch she had been sitting on broke with a loud _CRACK_ and tumbled down the tree, all forty feet. Cass winced each time it hit another tree branch before finally crashing to the ground.

Cass dangled on the branch for a second, her breathing labored. Gingerly, she placed her foot on a limb down and to her left. Cass pushed it a little, testing its stability. Seeing it fit for her weight, Cass sat down on it.

How had she done that? Cass had _Seen_ the tree falling _before _it happened. Cass shook her head, scowling. _No, you didn't. You just have good instincts. That is it_, she told to herself firmly. Cass's arms were shaking, either from exertion or fear—or most likely both.

Cass peered through the living room window. She could see her grandma sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. _Thank goodness she didn't notice._ She didn't even want to _think _about the yelling fit that would have ensued if Grandma had noticed. Cass looked down at the broken branch and sighed; she was going to have to climb down, move the tree limb, and them climb _back _up. Muttering grumpily under her breath, Cass started her descent, carefully placing her feet on branches only after they had been tested.

About six feet from the ground, Cass jumped the rest of the way down, landing with a soft thud. Grabbing the incredibly thick branch, Cass heaved it towards the street, where the bin man could pick it up. Amr shaking with effort, she finally got it close enough to the street and dropped it, thinking it was the bin man's problem now.

As Cass walked back around the house, she was startled to see a woman in green…were those _robes_? The woman wore her hair in a bun and, even from several meters away, Cass saw that it was very tight. The woman also appeared to be older, maybe a little younger than her grandparents. _And she was walking towards the front door!_

She bolted across the yard, yanked open the back door, and ran to the foyer.

"What is it, Cass? You know you need to be quiet, your grandfather is sleeping!" Grandma Joyce reprimanded, her voice stern.

"I saw a strange lady walking up to the front door!" Cass exclaimed.

"What, dear? You'll have to slow down," replied her grandma, putting down her knitting needle.

"I—" Cass was cut off by the doorbell ringing. She dashed to the door, ignoring her grandma hissing, "_Cass! You don't open the door for strangers!" _

Cass opened the door slowly, peering through the crack between the door and the doorframe. The woman from before greeted her. Up close, Cass could see that the woman had graying, black hair and a very stern look about her. Cass's immediate thought was this was not someone you want to cross.

"Hello, I'm Professor McGonagall. May I come in?" The woman spoke with a faint Scottish accent, and she looked at Cass with some emotion that Cass couldn't place. Cass didn't miss the professor bit, either. _First letters about a magic school, then a professor in robes? Either this was a _very _elaborate prank, or…_Cass stopped that train of thought.

Realizing the woman was waiting for an answer, Cass gave her one. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I can't let you in. I am afraid I don't know you or your intentions." It was then that Cass's grandmother came to the door.

"Who are you?" Grandma Joyce asked firmly, but not exactly rudely.

Professor McGonagall turned to Cass's grandma and replied, "Good afternoon. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am here to talk to you about Ms. Cassandra's possible enrollment of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Cass's mouth fell open. The professor continued, "This is very difficult to explain, so may I come in?"

Grandma Joyce was looking at Professor McGonagall through narrowed eyes, but, for whatever reason, she let her through the threshold.

"Cass, could you go make some tea for our…guest? And wake your grandfather, dear. Lord knows he won't want to miss this," said Cass's grandma, leading Professor McGonagall to the living room.

Cass rushed to the kitchen and turned on the stove, hastily pouring water in the kettle and slamming it onto the burner, splashing droplets of water out of the hastily closed lid. She then bolted to her grandparents' room and gently opened the door. Walking over to Grandpa Jimmy's side of the bed, Cass prodded her grandfather softly. His eyes flew open.

"Hey, kiddo. What is it?" he croaked, beaming at her.

Cass smiled back before saying, "There is a professor here, claiming to represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Her grandpa's eyebrows rose. "Witchcraft and wizardry, eh?" Cass nodded, just as skeptical as Grandpa Jimmy. "Okay, I'll be right out."

Cass left the room, not oblivious to her grandpa grimacing as he stretched. _Magic could help him. _Despite Cass's previous refusals to believe in magic, she was hoping against hope that magic was real and could help her grandfather.

In the kitchen, the kettle whistled. Taking the tray from the top of the cabinets, Cass placed teacups, plates, milk, sugar and some cakes before mixing the tea and adding that to the tray as well. Then, she picked up the tray and carried it to the living room, where her grandma and Professor McGonagall were now sitting.

"Ah, thank you very much, Cass," her grandma said warmly after Cass placed the tray on a small table. Professor McGonagall gave her thanks as well.

Everyone prepared their tea while they waited for Grandpa Jimmy to arrive. Finally, after what Cass had deemed an eternity, he came into the living room.

Professor McGonagall stood to shake his hand. "Hello, you must be Ms. Cassandra's grandfather. I'm Minerva McGonagall, representative of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, here to explain some things about magic."

Cass could tell her grandpa was very unnerved and skeptical of that introduction, but he said, "Please to meet you. My name is Jimmy McGarther. Representative of 94 Seere Lane." Cass was amused by her grandfather's humor, but stayed silent during the exchange.

Professor McGonagall's face didn't divert from its stern placement, but she looked appraisingly at Grandpa Jimmy. "I'm just going to be blunt about it; magic is real," the professor said, this time looking at Cass, gauging her reaction. Cass only raised her eyebrows, but inside, her mind was racing. _Magic, real? _Oddly enough, Cass believed her.

It was Cass's grandma that spoke next. "You'll have to forgive me for asking, but could you show us some proof that magic is real? I just have trouble believing that magic has been kept secret from the public." Grandma Joyce said this rather smugly, as if calling someone's bluff.

Professor McGonagall looked as if she had expected that. "Certainly," she replied. The professor took out a brown stick with an intricate handle from her robes and waved it at an empty teacup. All three McGarthers watched with wide eyes as the teacup turned into a red ball. They each had an identical expression of shock on their faces, but Cass's shock came not from the magic, but the stick it was performed with. She thought back to her dream from a couple nights ago, the one with the boy and the hooded figures. The boy, whose face she hadn't seen, had used a stick similar to the professor's. _How could I have known?_ Cass thought questioningly.

Professor McGonagall just smiled kindly at Cass, her eyes full of emotion again. _What is that about? That emotion?_ Cass's grandparents—and Cass, too, for that matter—were still gob smacked. Professor McGonagall merely continued explaining, "Hogwarts is a school for young witches and wizards. They are sent there to train and learn to control their magic." Cass gave a jolt; the letters had been addressed to _Cass_, Professor McGonagall said she had come for _Cass's _enrollment. The pieces clicked and understanding dawned on Cass. Professor McGonagall watched her figure out and confirmed it for Cass, speaking gently. "Ms. Cassandra, you are a witch."

Silence reigned in the room. Cass's grandma clutched her heart, her mouth in a small 'o'. Grandpa Jimmy just stared at Cass in shock, his mouth also in an 'O' shape. Cass looked at the ground, her mind blank. Through the blankness, a word floated around. _Witch. _Cass was a witch.

Professor McGonagall pretended not to notice the McGarthers' silence and sipped her tea, waiting for one of them to speak. It was Cass who did.

"That explains it," she muttered. Those three words pulled Grandma Joyce out of her stupor, and she looked at Cass with surprise and questions on her face. Professor McGonagall looked at Cass with curiosity, but didn't seem completely flabbergasted Cass had known about magic, unlike her now-gaping grandparents.

"What do you mean, Cass, dear? What do you mean 'that explains it?'" Grandma Joyce asked, turning away from the professor and looking at Cass.

Cass glanced at Professor McGonagall before looking towards her grandmother. "Well, er…I can…um…" Cass trailed off, at a loss for how to explain what had happened with the tree branch—and the countless other times before it. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I can…sort of…know what is going to happen. Before it happens. Not all the time. Just…sometimes."

It was Professor McGonagall's turn to look shocked, something that was not lost to Cass. _Wait, is that not normal? _Cass must have said it out loud, because Professor McGonagall replied.

"It is not unheard of," the professor replied. _But, yes, not normal,_ Cass finished in her head.

Grandpa Jimmy finally spoke, his voice shaking. "Cass, you mean to tell me that you _knew _about magic?" Cass thought she could detect hurt in his voice and she immediately felt guilty.

"No! I didn't know about magic! I just thought I had good instincts," Cass paused, debating on whether to share what happened with the tree. She decided to anyway, maybe it'll help them understand. "I mean, something happened earlier today, with the tree…" Cass shot an apologetic look towards her grandma, then continued, " I was sitting on a branch when I _Saw _the branch break before it actually did, so I grabbed a branch above me, just managing to hang on. I—uh… I just thought it was good instincts, that something had tipped me off about the branch breaking, so…" Cass trailed off, discouraged by the look of awe on everyone's, including the professor's, face.

Professor McGonagall recovered, shaking her head as if to clear it. "That is really impressive, Ms. Cassandra. Not many people can do that, and it is a mark of a very powerful Seer—and witch—that you can."

"Now, I must explain some key things," Professor McGonagall continued with her mission, as if nothing had happened. "Ms. Cassandra will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—that is, with your permission," she added with a nod towards Cass's grandparents, who were now paying rapt attention. "She will start just over three weeks from now, on September 1st. If I may, I will escort her to Diagon Alley—that is a main shopping center of the wizarding world—where we will get all her school supplies, as well as her wand."

Grandpa Jimmy interrupted with a question. "Why can't we escort Cass? And what is a wand?" Cass thought she knew what a wand was, but didn't speak, waiting for Professor McGonagall's answer.

"Muggles—that is, people without magic—cannot see much of the wizarding world. However, if you wish to come with us, I can arrange for methods that which allow you to see magic—more than the Transfiguration I displayed." Cass doubted her grandpa could take a magical alley, but she kept that to herself. Almost immediately after that thought, Cass felt ashamed. Her grandfather didn't deserve that kind of thinking from her. Shoving those feelings away, she listened to Professor McGonagall explain what a wand was.

"A wand is a device used to channel a witch's or wizard's magic. Each wand is different, just as each person is different." Professor McGonagall took her wand out again, showing it to Cass and then Cass's grandparents. "This is my wand. When Ms. Cassandra goes to Diagon Alley, she will get a wand that suits her."

Cass suddenly had a thought. She quickly asked the professor, "Professor, if I'm a witch, does that mean my parents were magical? Is there a way to find them?" Cass didn't know why she was so curious about her parents, as they had _abandoned_ her, but she felt she needed to know.

Professor McGonagall's expression turned from a lecturing one that hid a million emotions—sad ones, mostly, but there was also guilt mixed in there. Cass filed that away for later examination. "Your parents might have been magical. However, sometimes a witch—or wizard—is born from non-magical people," answered the professor.

"Muggles," Cass said, recalling the term Professor McGonagall had used before.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "These witches and wizards are called Muggle-borns."

Grandma Joyce asked, "Are there many of these…Muggle-borns?"

The professor nodded. "There are quite a few." Cass was relieved. She might not be a muggle-born, but she _was _Muggle-raised, so Cass was glad she wasn't going to be alone. Her grandparents looked relieved, too.

"How will Cass be getting to this school? Surely there isn't a road leading to a magical school? Speaking of which, where is this school?" Grandma Joyce asked the professor.

"There is a train—the Hogwarts Express—that will take all of the students to school. You are right, there is not a road that leads to Hogwarts; in fact, there is not a train track, either. The students are dropped off in a village near Hogwarts called Hogsmeade. From there, carriages take most of the children to the school. However, first-years take boats to the school, so as to see the school properly their first time.

"Hogwarts exact location is a secret. It is Unplottable, which means it does not show up on any maps, magical or otherwise. It is somewhere in Northern Scotland, though."

Cass thought of another question to ask. "Professor, what kind of classes will I take? What kind of supplies will I need?"

Professor McGonagall looked at her crossly. "Ms. Cassandra, have you looked at your letter? I believe it gives you a list of supplies." Cass's face took on a look of contrition.

"Letter? What letter, Cass?" Grandpa Jimmy asked.

"Er…well, I got a letter from Hogwarts. Several letters in fa—"

"You got a letter from this school and you didn't tell us!" screeched Cass's grandmother.

Cass winced. "Let me explain, please! I read it and thought it was a prank! I didn't want to believe in magic! I didn't want to believe in it and get my hopes up! Because magic can save Grandpa!" Cass turned to the professor, a pleading look in her eyes. "Right?"

Professor McGonagall looked very sad and shocked. Cass's grandparents, especially her grandma, looked guilty. Apparently, they hadn't known what Cass was feeling.

"I don't know what is wrong with your grandfather, Ms. Cassandra. But I need to tell you that magic cannot fix everything," Professor McGonagall said in her most gentle voice, which, surprisingly for the stern woman, was very gentle.

Cass sighed. _Grandpa…_

Cass's grandparents looked very sad. Her grandpa was surprised, as well. They had told Cass that he was sick, but not in too much detail. That Cass had jumped to the—unfortunately—right conclusion was impressive, no matter how heartbreaking that conclusion was.

Professor McGonagall stayed silent for a while, giving the family time to compose themselves. When they had, she said, "To answer your question, Ms. Cassandra, the classes you will be taking are Charms, Transfigurations, Herbology, Astronomy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Potions. Starting in your third year, you can take electives like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. The supplies you will need are included in your letter."

Professor McGonagall looked outside; it was well past sunset. She said, "Well, I think it is best I go. I can take you to Diagon Alley to get your things on the fourteenth of August."

Cass nodded and replied, "I'll—er—escort you out, Professor." She led Professor McGonagall to the door. "Have a good night, Professor McGonagall. Thanks for everything." Despite the somewhat negative end of the conversation, Cass was excited. _She was a witch! She could do magic! _

Professor McGonagall gave Cass a rare smile. "You have a good night as well, Ms. Cassandra. I'll be over on the fourteenth." Cass smiled back and watched as the professor walked down the sidewalk. Then, to Cass's amazement and wonder, Professor McGonagall _disappeared_ into thin air with a _pop!_ Cass's mouth fell open for the…how many times was that…tonight.

_Now, time for some experiments, _Cass thought, wondering exactly what being a witch entailed.

OoOoO

"Cockroach Cluster!"

Minerva McGonagall watched as the statue sprang back and allowed her passage to the Headmaster's office. She climbed the stairs and, upon reaching the top, knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came the cheery voice of Albus Dumbledore. McGonagall walked in, finding Snape already there. The Potions Master looked up at McGonagall in anticipation of her news. Dumbledore looked interested, too.

"Well, Deputy Headmistress? Tell us how it went," said Snape, somehow managing to look down his greasy nose at her even in his chair.

"Ms. Cassandra now knows she is a witch. I have arranged to take her to get her supplies and wand on the fourteenth," McGonagall replied curtly. "It looks like she grew up in a very loving and caring home," she added quietly, knowing they would want to know.

Dumbledore smiled and clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Thank you, Minerva. If that is all…?" Dumbledore trailed off because of the look on McGonagall's face. "Minerva, what is it?"

Snape leaned forward in his chair, eyes flashing at McGonagall.

"Well," McGonagall began, "Ms. Cassandra mentioned something very unusual." McGonagall looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "Albus, I believe she is a Seer."

Snape scoffed. "The ability doesn't manifest that early, Deputy Headmistress."

Dumbledore just looked thoughtful. "What did she say, Minerva?" McGonagall explained how Cass had saved herself from falling from the tree. While Snape remained skeptical, Dumbledore looked surprised. It was very odd indeed for one so young to display any Seer abilities, one of the reasons Divination was only open to third-years and up.

"This doesn't change anything. Remember: you must not let them learn the truth. If Voldemort finds out…" Dumbledore trailed off. At this, Snape nodded. McGonagall, however, scowled.

"It was wrong what you did, Albus. And it is wrong of us to keep it from them," McGonagall voiced quietly.

"I know," replied a heartbroken and guilt-ridden Dumbledore. "But the alternative was—and is—so much worse."

OoOoO


	3. An Alley and a Wand

**DISCLAIMER: I am not the amazing author of the HP series, nor will I ever claim to own any of her amazing characters. However, I do take credit for this plot and Cassandra, as I have put quite a few hours into it. **

**A/N: Holaaa! And I've managed to punch out another chapter so soon. This chapter is very long, so please enjoy! I would like to point out that I (probably) won't always be this fast with updates, so take it while you can, and please review!**

OoOoO

Cass concentrated on the feather in front of her. She was in her room, sitting on her bed. It was very late at night, but Cass was far from tired.

Cass had been doing this for the better part of the last few days. First, she had tried to light a candle. Simple, right? Wrong. The wick hadn't even flickered and the result was a discouraged, but still determined Cass.

Next, she had tried to 'use the force' and make her grandparents forget the fact that Cass had kept the letters from them. Whew, if they had been mad before, Cass's grandparents' anger was tenfold. In fact, Cass wouldn't have been surprised if _they _lit a candle.

After that, Cass tried to talk to a bird that was in her Thoughtful Tree. She had gotten excited when the bird got a look of contentment on its face, before realizing that it was…_relieving_…itself. Instead of a wicked new bird friend, Cass had gotten a face full of poop. _So much for the third eye,_ Cass had thought bitterly, before storming into the house. She had been greeted by _very _amused grandparents.

Now, somewhere between two and three in the morning, Cass was determined to make the feather in front of her rise in the air, if only an inch. The feather had come from a pillow on her bed.

_Come on, do something! Anything! Twitch! _Cass begged it. She was starting to get annoyed; she was a witch, wasn't she? Professor McGonagall had turned a teacup into a ball! Cass wasn't trying something so grand, she just wanted to lift a _feather_. Cass closed her eyes and _willed _the feather to rise, pushing her mind out, reaching for something deep inside her. Cass imagined the feather rising just a little, concentrating very hard on that image. Sure it was working, Cass opened her eyes.

The feather was still laying on the bed, almost innocently. Mockingly.

"Ugh! Stupid feather! Stupid magic! What good is being a witch if you can't make a _feather_ float?" Cass growled to herself angrily. She swung her legs out of the bed, deciding to take a break and get some milk from the kitchen. As she stormed out of her room, Cass didn't notice the small feather float high into the air above her blue bed.

OoOoO

Cass stared into her bathroom mirror, taking in her appearance. Brilliant green eyes stared back at her, framed by dark, curly—but not unmanageable—hair. In the morning sunlight coming through the window, you could just see a reddish tint around the edges of Cass's hair.

Cass's face was slightly tan from constantly being outside, and she had high cheekbones. She wore a white, sleeveless blouse and jeans. In her arm, she held her favorite green hoodie.

Cass opened a drawer under the bathroom sink and took out a hair-tie for her wrist, in case her hair needed to be pulled back. Satisfied with her appearance, Cass left the bathroom and headed towards the living room.

Today was a very big day. Today, Professor McGonagall would take Cass to Diagon Alley, where they would get all of her school supplies. _And my wand_, Cass added excitedly.

Cass was pacing the room anxiously, anticipating the professor's arrival. Her grandparents, who were sitting on the couch, watched her amusedly.

Finally, Cass's grandpa couldn't take it any longer. "Cass, sweetheart, you are going to drive me insane with that incessant pacing. Professor McGonagall will get here when she gets here. Walking around in circles won't—" he was cut off by Cass's head whipping toward the front door, right before the doorbell rang.

"She is here!" Cass cried, running to answer the door. Her grandparents just exchanged a look, but said nothing about Cass's clairvoyance.

Cass yanked open the door, forgetting to unlock the chain in her haste to see the professor. Embarrassed, Cass closed the door again, unlocked the chain, and then opened the door, very red in the face.

Professor McGonagall stood on the porch, this time in black robes. Her face was still very stern, but her eyes twinkled in amusement. _Great, she probably thinks I'm an idiot, _Cass thought to herself. Shrugging off her embarrassment, she invited the older woman inside.

"Good morning, Ms. Cassandra," said Professor McGonagall, stepping into the house.

"Good morning, Professor," Cass replied. Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Jimmy came into the foyer, wearing welcoming smiles.

"Good to see you again, Professor McGonagall. Would you like some tea?" Grandma Joyce asked.

Professor McGonagall nodded, "That would be lovely. Thank you."

The three adults moved to the living room while Cass closed the door. Craning her neck, Cass tried to see Professor McGonagall's car, only a little surprised when the only car to be found was her grandpa's old Mercedes.

In the living room, Professor McGonagall was just adding milk to her tea when Grandpa Jimmy asked, "Professor, do wizards use pounds?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "No, we use coins called Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons." At Cass's grandparents' questioning looks, she continued, "Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon."

Although Cass's grandpa still looked confused (a _Galleon_? Like a Spanish warship?), he nodded and asked another question. "Is there a way to convert pounds to…Galleons?"

"Yes, if you could provide some…pounds…for Ms. Cassandra, we can go to Gringotts—that is the wizard bank—and convert them to Galleons there." Cass found it amusing that both Grandpa Jimmy and Professor McGonagall had been uncomfortable in saying the other's form of currency. The witch continued, "I believe it is about five pounds per Galleon. A wand costs seven Galleons, so take that and all of Ms. Cassandra's school supplies, she should need about forty-five pounds, maybe a little more if she is to buy something extra." Cass's grandparents glanced at each other, but soon nodded. Cass felt a twinge of guilt. They had always had so little money…

"If there aren't any more questions?" asked Professor McGonagall asked, putting down her tea.

Cass's grandparents quickly stood up. "No…well, yes—it isn't often one comes across a wizarding world—but, Cass is quite excited and I don't want to hold her up," replied Grandma Joyce, giving a knowing look to Cass, who quickly jumped up.

Professor McGonagall stood and shook each of Cass's grandparents' hands. Cass was bouncing with excitement. _I'm going to get a wand! I'm going to a magical alley! _

Grandma Joyce gestured to Cass, who followed her into the kitchen. Cass watched as her grandma pulled out her purse and counted out forty-eight pounds and handed them to her. "Cass…I can't believe this is real. A witch? I always knew you were special, and this just proves it. I know the professor said you'll only need forty-five pounds, but this should get you a little something more. Buy something…magical." Cass hugged her grandmother, who hugged her tightly back.

"Thank you, Grandma. I love you so much!"

Cass and Grandma Joyce walked to the foyer. Grandpa Jimmy and Professor McGonagall stood there, waiting for Cass. When she came in, Grandpa Jimmy gave Cass a hug and tugged on one of her curls. "You behave for the professor, you hear me?" he said sternly, flashing Cass a smile to show her that he knew she would.

"I will."

Grandpa Jimmy nodded and then took Grandma Joyce's hand as Cass walked over to a cubby to the right of the front door, where a small, beige backpack was stored. Putting her hoodie and the forty-eight pounds in it, Cass slung it over one shoulder. She had already put one of the many Hogwarts letters containing the supply list in the backpack. Cass walked to the front door and let Professor McGonagall out.

Cass's grandparents waved from the house and Cass waved back before following Professor McGonagall to the street. Curious, she watched as the witch stuck out her right arm at the kerb.

BANG! A wall of purple appeared in front of Cass. She stumbled back, eyes widening. Professor McGonagall simply said, "This is the Knight Bus, one of the ways of transportation in the wizarding world, if not the fastest way. We will be taking it to Diagon Alley." Looking at it again, Cass could see it was a triple-decker bus with gold lettering that spelled _The Knight Bus. _

Just then, the doors opened outward and a young conductor in purple clothes proclaimed, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan—"

"—Mr. Shunpike, please save the speech. I am here to escort this young witch to Diagon Alley and we're a bit pressed for time, so if you could just allow us passage, it would be appreciated." Professor McGonagall interrupted Stan. The young—maybe twenty-one or twenty-two years old—man looked taken aback that his speech was interrupted, but allowed them to enter the bus.

"'Course, Professor. 'Choo want 'ot chocolate, miss?" asked Stan. Cass shook her head; she had eaten not long before Professor McGonagall had arrived.

Stan turned towards Professor McGonagall and asked, "Where 'choo wanna go, Professor?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Shunpike," replied the older witch, taking silver from her robes and handing it to Stan. He nodded and led them deeper into the bus.

Cass's eyes widened. She had been expecting regular bus seats, but, instead, there were beds. Curtained windows let in light, and, despite it being day, candles were burning in brackets mounted on the wood-paneled walls. Stan led the professor and Cass over to two beds in the corner. Cass sat down on one of the beds and Professor McGonagall sat down on the other, a faint look of distaste on her face.

Suddenly, Stan yelled, "Take 'er away, Ern!" With that, the bus lurched forward with a loud BANG! Cass tumbled backwards, now flat on the bed. Somehow, Professor McGonagall had managed to stay upright. Stan had as well, and he was watching Cass' struggle to get back up with a look of enjoyment on his face. Cass glared at him and Professor McGonagall scowled.

Looking outside the window, Cass was stunned to see that they were in completely different surroundings. Instead of the street Cass had grown up riding bikes on, they were now in a lane sheltered by trees. In the middle of the lane was a car—_and the bus was headed straight for it!_

Cass almost got up, almost yelled at the driver to stop, they were going to crash, but she stopped herself. She didn't See them crashing and, sure enough, they didn't. But Cass only grew more confused as the car _bent around_ the bus, which just kept driving at an insanely fast speed.

Cass turned to Professor McGonagall, questions written all over her face. Professor McGonagall looked like she had expected this and said, "The Knight Bus is designed to avoid crashes, which is why it is able to go _this _fast and not have a single accident."

"But how do people not see it? How can they not feel themselves…" Cass searched for a word to use. "…stretching around the bus?"

"They ain't looking properly, are they? Don' see nuffink, Muggles," Stan put in. Cass couldn't believe that _no one_—except witches and wizards, of course—saw this. However, she kept her doubts to herself and watched the trees zoom by.

BANG! The bus stopped again, this time in a park. The doors opened and Cass could here Stan giving a speech—a whole speech, like he's rehearsed it and everything—to someone. Stan stepped back, allowing the witch or wizard in.

A young witch entered the bus. She wore bright pink robes and a matching hat. Stan led her to a bed in the front and with another BANG, the Knight Bus was on the road again.

For the next ten minutes, Cass just watched in amazement as the bus was transported to place after place, sometimes letting people off, sometimes letting them on. After the first five minutes, the shock was wearing off. After seven minutes, Cass was starting to get a headache, caused from the loud BANG's and the intense speeds. With a jolt, Cass recalled what Professor McGonagall had said earlier_. "This is the Knight Bus, one of the ways of transportation in the wizarding world, if not the fastest way_." Not the fastest? What could be faster than a magical, teleporting bus? Cass wasn't sure she wanted to know.

After nine minutes of riding on the Knight Bus, Cass was feeling sick. She glanced over at Professor McGonagall. The stern woman looked paler than usual, but other than that, she looked fine.

Finally, with one last BANG, the Knight Bus rolled to a stop in front of a small, dingy pub. Cass leapt from her bed, smoothed her pants, and all but bowled over Stan in her haste to get off the headache-inducing bus. From somewhere behind her, she heard a chuckle.

"Thank you, Mr. Ernest, Mr. Shunpike." Professor McGonagall said, nodding towards the driver and conductor, respectively. Stepping off the bus, she brushed off her robes before saying, "Ms. Cassandra, this is the Leaky Cauldron. Through the back door is the entrance to Diagon Alley." Cass nodded and followed the professor to the door.

Inside the pub, it was dark and shabby. A few wizards sat playing a card game in one corner, drinking from flagons. The bartender was bald and toothless, and Cass thought he looked rather like a walnut. He nodded to Professor McGonagall, who nodded back. Then, Cass was led to the back of the pub, out a door, and into a small courtyard. The only things in it were a rubbish bin, an old banana peel, and some weeds. _You'd think the entrance to a magical alley would be grander, _Cass thought wryly.

Professor McGonagall walked over to a wall and took out her wand. Then, after tapping her wand on various bricks above the rubbish bin, Professor McGonagall stood back. That was when something truly amazing happened.

Cass's eyes grew wider and wider as she watched the scene before her. The bricks revealed a hole that grew bigger and bigger, making other bricks move out of the way. The wall rippled and danced, and after a few seconds, there stood an archway before Cass's disbelieving eyes. She felt her mouth fall open in shock as she took in the place before her.

Shop after shop filled the street, each selling extraordinary things. One sold cauldrons of all types and sizes; Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible. And that was only one shop.

Cass saw an Apothecary shop, advertising dragon liver. She didn't have time to be grossed out by that as she whipped her head the other way, looking at Eeylops Owl Emporium, amazed by the beautiful owls in the window.

Turning her head in a different direction, Cass watched several boys her age—and some quite a bit older—press their faces to a glass pane. _Honestly, how immature, _she thought. However, upon seeing what was inside the shop, Cass had half the thought to join them. Through the window, Cass saw broomsticks—_broomsticks_—on display. _Ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Broomsticks, as in flying! OHMYGOSH! _Cass suddenly ducked, making Professor McGonagall look at her strangely. Not two seconds later, a boy on a broom came out of nowhere and flew where Cass's head had been. She just stared in shock as he yelled an apology over his head, laughing. _I want to do that! _

"LEE JORDAN! DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY HURT HER!" shrieked Professor McGonagall, appearing very flustered. She turned to Cass. "How did you know…oh, right." Cass just nodded, still thinking about flying and grinning.

Professor McGonagall composed herself. "Ms. Cassandra, we will first go Gringotts, the wizarding bank, to convert your pounds into Galleons." The older witch gestured down the alley. Cass hadn't noticed before, but at the end of Diagon Alley was a huge, white building. Across the front, _Gringotts_ was written. It was a beautiful building.

"I must warn you, the bankers are not what you would expect. You see, Gringotts is run by goblins," said Professor McGonagall, leading Cass down the alley. Cass turned to her in shock, her mouth moving with no sound coming out.

Finally, she found her voice. "_Goblins_?" Professor McGonagall just nodded curtly. Cass just shook her head and went back to looking around the alley.

Almost everyone here wore robes in varying colors. Most of the witches wore long, pointy hats. They passed by an ice cream parlor owned by a man named Florean Fortescue. They passed by a bookshop titled _Flourish and Botts_. One store that really peaked Cass's interest was one advertising ink, parchment, and quills. _I wonder what it would be like drawing with quills._

Professor McGonagall and Cass reached the white building and climbed its steps. At the doors of the bank stood two guards, who glanced at the two witches, then resumed looking ahead.

The inside of the building took Cass's breath away. If the outside was beautiful, then the inside was…godly.

The ceiling was vaulted and the walls were illuminated by many, many candles. Stand after stand lined the main walkway and on them were tiny creatures. These creatures were only a head or so shorter than Cass, but they looked very menacing. Their fingers and feet were long, and many of them had pointed beards. Goblins. These were goblins.

Professor McGonagall led Cass to the left, where, in the corner, was a stand titled _Conversions._ The goblin at the stand had black hair and a clever look about him.

Cass pulled her bag to her front and rummaged around for a second, looking around for the forty-eight pounds. Finding them, she took them out, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked with Professor McGonagall to the stand.

"We would like to make a conversion from pounds to Galleons please," said Cass's escort. Cass handed the pounds to Professor McGonagall, who placed them on the stand.

The goblin didn't even look up as he growled, "How much pounds, ma'am?"

"Forty-eight," Cass replied for Professor McGonagall, knowing the older witch wasn't aware of how much Grandma Joyce had given her. Professor McGonagall just shot Cass a grateful look.

The goblin glanced at Cass, but said nothing as he took the pounds and placed them on a small disk. The disk spun around, growing faster and faster until it was a blur of color. The disk slowed and in the place of the pounds were nine golden coins, ten silver coins, and four bronze ones. Cass might have goggled, if she weren't becoming used to the frequent displays of magic.

So, instead, she asked, "Where did the pounds go? Do you not keep them? What if someone needs to convert Galleons to pounds?"

The goblin looked exasperated. "A revised form of the Switching Charm replaces the pounds with the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts," he said curtly, yanking a small bag from under the stand. The goblin pushed the coins into the bag and tied it off before handing it to Professor McGonagall, who handed it to Cass.

"Now, if you'll please leave, I'm quite busy," the goblin said nastily. Cass looked around the stand; no one was near it. Amused by the goblin's bitterness, Cass put the money bag into her backpack and walked with Professor McGonagall to the entrance.

Out in Diagon Alley again, Cass looked at the professor expectantly, wanting to know where they were going.

"We will go to Madam Malkin's," Professor McGonagall gestured to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "This is where you will get your robes." Cass nodded and they made their way over to the robes shop.

As they were walking to Madam Malkin's, Cass stopped abruptly. To her left was a newspaper stand, featuring papers from a company called _The Daily Prophet_. That wasn't what grabbed her attention, though. It was the fact that the pictures were _moving_ that made Cass stop.

A portly man was seen in the first picture, giving some sort of speech in front of five golden statues; a witch, a wizard, a goblin, a centaur, and some smaller creature that Cass didn't know of.

To the bottom right of that was a picture of a young boy, maybe three or four years older than Cass. He wore round glasses and he had a peculiar mark on his face that was in the shape of a lightning-bolt. _Weird birthmark,_ Cass remarked to herself. Next to the boy, in big letters, were the words: HARRY POTTER, A CRIMINAL?

"Who is Harry Potter, Professor?" Cass asked. Professor McGonagall stiffened beside her, but relaxed when she saw Cass was pointing to the picture on front of the newspaper.

"He is a young boy. I will not go into more details, now, it is a very long—and sad—story," replied the woman sternly. Cass looked at the boy again. _He looks so familiar, _she thought.

The two witches continued to Madam Malkin's. Cass continued to look around in awe at Diagon Alley, taking mental pictures of everything. She didn't want to forget anything about the magical street.

In Madam Malkin's, it was hectic. Many other kids were in the shop, getting fitted for robes. Almost all of them wore the standard black robes that the Hogwarts Letter had said to buy.

A stout woman walked up to Cass and Professor McGonagall, smiling. "Hello, Professor. Another student?" she greeted warmly, beaming at Cass.

"Hello, Merriam. Yes, please get her outfitted with the standard robes," replied Professor McGonagall. Turning to Cass, she said, "I'll be right outside, Ms. Cassandra." Cass nodded.

"Come with me, dear," commanded Madam Malkin. She led Cass to the back, where two older girls were being fitted. One was very pale and had curly hair. The other's complexion was very dark and had dark hair. They were both giggling at something. The young witch fitting them looked very annoyed.

Madam Malkin placed Cass on a stool and slid a black robe over her head. The robe was very large on Cass and touched the floor, even with Cass standing on the stool. The two girls looked over at Cass and smiled.

"Awww! She is so cute and tiny, Parv! Are you a first-year?" exclaimed the pale girl, giggling. Cass bristled. _Cute and tiny? _Madam Malkin started pinning the over-sized robe in various places.

"Lav, don't be rude!" scolded the dark-skinned girl. She turned her head to Cass and said, "Hello, I'm Parvarti, and this is Lavender," Parvarti gestured to Lavender. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but this is all very new to me. My name is Cass," Cass replied, looking at Parvarti.

"We go to Hogwarts, too. We'll be in our fifth year. Did you say this was new to you? Are you a Muggle-born?" Lavender demanded.

Cass just nodded, not wanting to explain how she didn't know who her parents were. Besides, it explained why she didn't know much about the wizarding world.

"Ooh that's so cute!" squealed Lavender. Cass resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Parvarti was looking at Cass weirdly, so Cass asked, "I'm sorry, but why are you looking at me like that?"

The dark-haired girl looked ashamed. "Sorry, you just looked familiar for a second. But I don't know you so…"

"Oh, ok. So, what is Hogwarts like?" Cass asked, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. It worked, as both girls brightened.

They told Cass all about Quidditch, cute boys, the professors, cute boys, the Houses, and cute boys. Cass thought they seemed very girlish and didn't think much of their gossip stories and stories about—get this-cute boys. _Cute boys this, cute boys that. What about the classes? The school? The magic? _

Cass let them drone on, though. Finally, Madam Malkin finished with Cass. She gathered her new robes, folded them nice and neatly, stuck them in a mauve bag, and handed them to Cass, who thanked her profusely. Cass paid Madam Malkin and left.

Outside the shop, Professor McGonagall waited for Cass. "Oh, here, Ms. Cassandra. Let me get those for you," said the professor, taking the rather bulky bag. Just as Cass started to protest, the older witch took her wand from her robes and tapped the bag.

Cass watched with wide eyes as the bag shrank to a very small size, small enough to fit in her backpack. _Wicked, _she thought. Cass put the now-tiny bag in her backpack and thanked Professor McGonagall, who only said, "I'll put that back to its original size when I return you to your grandparents."

Next on the list was Cass's spellbooks. Excited, she followed Professor McGonagall to a bookshop called _Flourish and Botts. _

Inside the bookshop was row after row of books. Cass took her list from her bag and started picking out books. Professor McGonagall let her find the books on her own as she watched the young witch light up with excitement.

Eight books, one Galleon, and four Knuts later, Cass walked out of the bookshop with a very amused Professor McGonagall. After shrinking the bags again, the professor led Cass to their next destination: the Apothecary.

The inside of the Apothecary smelled like a mixture of bad eggs, rotten cabbages, and, surprisingly, fresh mint—which just made the odor that much more pungent. Wooden shelves were lined with jars of slimy goop, bright powders, and dried roots. Mushrooms and other fungi could be found in the corners. Bundles of feathers, fangs, and claws hung from the ceiling. Probably most disgusting was the large bucket of dead worms. Naturally, Cass was fascinated.

Professor McGonagall walked up to the counter, behind which stood a man in his mid-forties. "Basic potion ingredients for first-years, please," said Professor McGonagall with an air of business.

"Sure thing, ma'am," replied the man. He reached behind him and started pulling various ingredients from large piles. After putting all of the ingredients in separate bags and placing them in a small box, he handed them to Cass. "Five sickles, miss." Cass rummaged in her bag for a second, then handed the money to a man with a "Thank you!"

Professor McGonagall and Cass walked out of the Apothecary. The box with the ingredients in it was small enough to fit in her bag without having to shrink it, so Cass shoved it in and they continued their shopping.

The next things Cass needed were a set a brass scales, a telescope, a cauldron, and a set of glass phials. After getting these, Cass bought ink, quills, and lots of parchment. _I'll have to practice with these when I get home,_ she thought.

Cass also bought a Color-Changing Quill and a small, drawstring backpack with a galaxy pattern that actually _moved_ on it with the money she had left over, saving enough for a wand.

Finally, it was time for what Cass has been waiting for ever since she first heard of it. It was time to get her wand.

Sensing her excitement, or perhaps just wanting to be done with her duties, Professor McGonagall hurried Cass over to a shabby-looking shop. In peeling gold letters, the front of the shop read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

In the window, on a purple cushion, a single, thin wand was laid. _382 B.C._, Cass thought in wonder. _What a long time_.

Cass walked into the store, Professor McGonagall right behind her. At first, Cass couldn't see anyone, so she looked around the shop.

_Ollivanders_ was very dusty, and very tiny. Hundreds, if not thousands, of boxes were stacked to the ceiling. _Those must be the wands_, Cass thought to herself. The place thrummed with energy…magic. All the wands, the floorboards, the walls, the very _dust_ was magical.

An old man stepped out from behind a stack of boxes. Cass was startled to see bright silver eyes in the lined face.

"Good—" the man—Mr. Ollivander, Cass assumed—started to say, before he cut himself off, looking at Cass in confusion. Concerned, Cass started towards him, but he held up a hand, stopping her. "I'm fine, my dear. I thought I saw…never you mind, it is impossible. Just a coincidence, I presume."

Cass was thoroughly confused; what was impossible? What had Mr. Ollivander thought he saw? "I'm sorry, sir, but what do you mean?" So lost in her thoughts about the old man's words, Cass didn't notice Professor McGonagall pale.

"You just reminded me of someone, my dear," said Mr. Ollivander. Although nowhere near satisfied with that answer, Cass decided to drop it. Mr. Ollivander turned to Professor McGonagall. "Ah…Minerva McGonagall. Fir wood, nine and a half inches, dragon heartstring core, isn't it?"

"That is correct, Mr. Ollivander," replied the professor. Cass had no idea what they were talking about—other than wands, of course. But what was dragon heartstring? Why was it in the core?

"I remember every wand I've ever sold," murmured Mr. Ollivander quite fondly, as if reminiscing each wand. Cass highly doubted that he remembered _every _wand he ever sold, but she kept that to herself.

"My name is Cassandra McGarther, Mr. Ollivander, sir," Cass introduced herself.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. McGarther. I would introduce myself, but it seems my reputation proceeds me," said Mr. Ollivander. "Now, let's see here. Ms. McGarther, which is your wand arm?"

"Um…I'm right-handed, sir."

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Please hold out your right arm, dear. That's it." Mr. Ollivander started to measure all around Cass's body. He continued speaking while working. "You see, Ms. McGarther, there are three main types of wand cores; unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feathers. Each of these cores are a very powerful substance, and they allow the wand to work." Mr. Ollivander tilted Cass's head to the side, measuring her ear.

"There are many more types of wand woods, each powerful in their own right," Mr. Ollivander stopped holding the measuring tape, but it kept measuring Cass regardless. The old wizard was now walking amongst shelves, peering at different wand boxes. "Our task is to find the wand that matches _you_," finished Mr. Ollivander, pulling a wand box from one of the piles. Amazingly, the stack didn't fall down. _Magic_, Cass concluded.

"Try this one. Its core is dragon heartstring, its wood is beechwood. Nine inches. Very flexible," Mr. Ollivander said, handing a wand to Cass. She just held it, not knowing what to do.

"Well, go on, give it a flick." Cass did just that, feeling like an idiot when nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand from her hands, throwing it on a spindly chair. _Well, that's a bit too much, _Cass thought wryly.

"Yew. Unicorn hair core. Ten inches and quite springy." Mr. Ollivander gave Cass another wand. Cass swished it. Again, nothing happened.

And so it went for the next twenty or so wands. At one point, all the wand cores and wand woods and wand lengths had all blended together and Cass was just giving her wrist a small flick for each wand she was given . The pile on the spindly chair was growing to absurd proportions.

Suddenly, Cass straightened. Mr. Ollivander was coming back, holding a very elegant, silver wand. _This is it._

"This next one is unusual, but it matched the measurements. Silver lime wood, unicorn hair core, eleven inches. Very flexible."

As soon as Cass touched it, warmth spread through her fingertips. All at once, the candles in the room were blown out by an unnatural wind. It was quite dark in the room, the only light coming from the grimy window. Silver sparks flew from Cass's wand, illumination her face. Her hair stirred in a warm breeze, blowing backwards. Cass shuddered.

Slowly, all of the candles came back to life. The sparks ceased, but Cass still felt warmth at her fingertips.

"That was quite a display! Yes, yes! What a perfect match!" Mr. Ollivander exclaimed happily, beaming at Cass. Professor McGonagall looked shocked by what Cass had done—albeit unintentionally.

Cass remembered what Mr. Ollivander had said about her wand. "Mr. Ollivander, sir, what did you mean when you said that this was an unusual choice of a wand?"

"Silver lime wood is a very elegant wood. In fact, many con-makers used to sell dyed wands made to look like Silver Lime wood wands. What makes it most interesting, though, is the fact that Silver Lime wands often pair with Seers or gifted Legilimens."

Cass exchanged a look with Professor McGonagall. No wonder the wand had responded to her; Cass could See the future (not all of it of course, but she doesn't want you to know that). Distantly, Cass wondered what a Legilimens was.

"That'll be seven Galleons, Ms. McGarther. And thank you for that wonderful display of magic," said Mr. Ollivander.

"But I didn't to anything," Cass protested, handing him the money.

The old wizard just smiled. "Didn't you?"

OoOoO

On the Knight Bus, amid loud bangs and abrupt stops, Cass remembered the boy from the newspaper. "Professor, you said you would tell me about Harry Potter."

Stan looked at Cass in disbelief, as if he couldn't understand someone who didn't know about Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Yes, I suppose I did," started the older witch. "First, you must understand that not all wizards and witches are good. We are like every other society, we are not perfect.

"This was proven around two decades ago, when there was an evil wizard. He did terrible things, _terrible_ things," the professor's voice was a whisper, her face pale. "He went after the Potters on the Halloween of 1981.

"James and Lily Potter died that night," Cass felt her heart squeeze. Suddenly, she wasn't in the Knight Bus. Cass was in a hallway, watching as a man with untidy black hair and round glasses fell to a harsh, sickly green flash. Somewhere, a woman screamed. Cass's eyes smarted and she was back on the bus. She gulped in air, her head throbbing. _What was that?_

Professor McGonagall didn't appear to have noticed, as she was still talking in a solemn voice. "Young Harry Potter, only fifteen months old at the time, was next on the wizard's list." The witch's eyes grew in wonder as she said, "By some miracle, Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse—that is a dark spell that instantly kills—and was left only with a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead while the evil wizard was…conquered." _Harry Potter survived a spell that causes instant death…how?_ Cass wondered. She also wondered on why Professor McGonagall had paused before saying 'conquered'. But these things were at the back of her mind. Mostly, Cass was thinking about how awful it must have been growing up without parents, everyone praising you over something that was a miracle. Everyone celebrating when they should be mourning the loss of a child's father and mother. Cass felt nothing but sympathy and sadness for Harry Potter.

"Professor, what was the wizard's name?" Cass asked, curious.

"What 'choo wanna know that 'or? Ain't nobody says 'is name. 'S pure evil," interrupted Stan. Professor McGonagall still looked pale, but she nodded her head in confirmation.

"When we must refer to him, we say 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named," clarified Professor McGonagall. Cass though that was stupid. It was a name, not a taboo. Though, maybe for them, it was. _Not them. Us. You're one of them_, Cass reminded herself. At a second thought, Cass contemplated on how horrible one must be so that their very _name_ was too terrifying to even speak.

"Professor, if Harry Potter saved your world—er, _our _world—from You-Know-Who, why did that newspaper—_The Daily Prophet_—call him a criminal?" Cass asked, confused.

Stan snorted, " 'Cause the boy's a nutter, ain't he? Claimin' You-Know-Who is 'ack, begging for attention." Professor McGonagall scowled deeply. Cass was finding herself very angry at Stan, too.

BANG! The bus slammed to a stop, knocking Cass forward a meter or so. As she got to her feet, the doors opened. Cass and Professor McGonagall walked out to a very annoying, " 'Bye! Come back soon!" from Stan.

They were back at Cass's street, everything just as it had always been. It felt weird to Cass that everything could be so _normal_ when a magical alley—no, scratch that, a whole magical _world_—existed.

As the two witches walked up to Cass's front door, Cass heard Professor McGonagall whisper, "Voldemort. That was…that is his name." Cass didn't have to ask who the professor was talking about. She only asked herself, _so, _is_ Voldemort back? _

OoOoO

Back in her bedroom, Cass sighed grumpily, thinking about what Professor McGonagall had said about no magic before she left.

_As Grandpa Jimmy, Grandma Joyce, Professor McGonagall, and Cass sat in the living room, the professor cleared her throat seriously._

_Professor McGonagall looked Cass straight in the eye. "You are not to do magic until you arrive at Hogwarts, Ms. Cassandra. Do you hear me?" _

"_Why not, Professor?" _

"_Because performing magic outside of school is illegal, as it is an infraction on the Statute of Secrecy. Doing so would result in punishment," the professor warned. After hearing all about how Muggles could not know about magic, Cass's grandparents had whole-heartedly agreed. _

It wasn't fair; Cass just got her wand, yet she couldn't do any magic?

Despite this, Cass was undeniably happy. She was going to a magical school in two weeks! She was going to become a witch! Sure, she was upset that she would have to leave her grandparents, but Cass was sure they would be fine. Probably better, since they didn't have Cass annoying them.

_I'm going to be the best witch I can be, _Cass thought, determined.

OoOoO


	4. A Journey into Magic

**DISCLAIMER: This is fanfiction, yes? Not authorfiction—meaning I am not the amazing author and don't own any of her amazing characters. **

**A/N: Hello, all! First, thank you for reading. I'm so surprised to have so many viewers and to have people favoriting this story so fast. Second, please tell me if I'm doing anything wrong. I'm a bit of a perfectionist—actually, more than a bit—and I want to do my best. Third, enjoy as Cass rides the Hogwarts Express and sees a certain green-eyed fifth-year… Sorting will be next chapter, I promise!**

OoOoO

Cass's last two weeks of summer were very long. She couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts and learn all there was about magic.

Cass devoured all of her textbooks, spending hours in her Thoughtful Tree. She read up on recent magical history, too. She read things concerning that boy Professor McGonagall had told her about; Harry Potter. Though she couldn't use it, Cass also spent a lot of her time studying her wand, running her hands over it, admiring its beauty and elegance.

She had practiced drawing with ink and quills, too. At first, she had been bad at it. After much practice (and a lot of frustration on Cass's part), she had finally got it.

Finally, the night before September first came, and Cass was packing her trunk. She packed all of her toiletries in the moving galaxy bag she got at Diagon Alley. All of her books, quills, ink, parchment, and notebooks went in one side of the immense trunk; her robes and other clothes went on the other. Cass had made sure to pack Muggle clothes like sweatpants and hoodies, too, because that was what she was most comfortable in.

That night at dinner, Grandma Joyce exclaimed, "Cass, I am so excited for you. A witch! How absolutely amazing! I am so happy that you get to see—and perform—magic!" Cass's grandmother was beaming at her. Cass smiled back, sharing her enthusiasm by a tenfold.

Grandpa Jimmy was grinning, too. "Kiddo…I don't know what to say. I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that magic is real, I haven't even begun thinking about you being gone until _Christmas._"

Cass's smile faltered. In fact, she was going to miss her grandparents a lot. They had made her laugh when she felt like crying, they had helped her up when she was down. Grandma Joyce noticed her granddaughter take on a sad face and pulled her into a hug, saying, "Cassandra McGarther! Don't you be sad, you hear me? You are going to a school of _magic_. You'll be fine."

Cass nodded, and her smile came back in full force. Grandpa Jimmy joined the hug and the three McGarthers sat in silence, simply enjoying each other's company.

OoOoo

Cass watched the streets of London zoom by from the car window, excited beyond words. Her trunk was in the back, filled with spellbooks and robes. Cass wore dark jeans and a t-shirt, her hoodie on over it. She wore this instead of her robes because she didn't want to have the attention of the entire King's Cross station. Cass would change into her dress robes on the train. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and curly baby hairs framed her face.

Cass barely held in squeals of excitement for what would happen today. _I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm going to be a witch!_ She chanted to herself. Cass started to bounce up in down in her seat as the car pulled up to King's Cross station. _This is it_. Grandpa Jimmy parked the car and Cass ripped her seat belt off, threw open the car door, and was out before either of her grandparents had unbuckled.

Cass sprinted to the back of the car and lifted open the trunk. She heaved her trunk from the car and set in on the pavement, panting.

"Well, I would have _helped_ you, kiddo," chuckled Cass's grandpa. He and Grandma Joyce walked around to stand next to her. "Come on, dear, lets get you aboard a magical train," said Grandpa Jimmy, reaching for Cass's trunk.

However, Cass started to roll it herself, waving her hand to say that she could handle it. The small family entered the train station.

"So, Cass, do you know what to do?" asked Grandma Joyce as they came to platforms nine and ten. Cass nodded; Professor McGonagall has explained the barrier after delivering Cass back home from Diagon Alley.

"_Do you remember how I said students ride a train to Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall questioned. Cass had nodded. _

"_Good. To get to this train, you must go to platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross station," the professor had told them. _

"_Platform nine and three-quarters? Is there a such thing?" demanded Grandpa Jimmy, eyebrows raised in confusion. _

"_Not for Muggles, there isn't," said Professor McGonagall simply. "But there is a magical gateway for wizards and witches. To go through this barrier, one must head straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten," Professor McGonagall paused, letting that sink in. "Although it will appear to be solid brick, if you run towards it, the wall will let you through to platform nine and three-quarters."_

What?_ Cass had thought. _Honestly, why am I surprised,_ she asked herself a second later. "The train leaves at eleven a.m. sharp, so make sure you get there on time."_

Cass was nervous; what if she didn't get through the barrier? Beyond that, Cass was nervous about school; what if she was at a disadvantage because she had grown up in a Muggle home? _Stop that, Cass. Don't be nervous, you'll be fine. Honestly, I'd be surprised if someone was _better_ than you, after all that reading. _

"We're going to go with you to the platform, okay kiddo?" said Cass's grandpa.

"Of course, wouldn't want it any other way," replied Cass, smiling.

The McGarthers reached platforms nine and ten. Cass steeled herself, taking a deep breath. _Don't be a wimp,_ Cass scolded herself. She rushed towards the bricks between platforms nine and ten. Cass closed her eyes; why had she done this—she was going to crash, she was so _crazy_—

Cass emerged on the other side, blinking at the sudden change of surroundings. A scarlet steam engine waited next to a very packed platform. A sign above read _Hogwarts Express, Eleven O'Clock._ Cass had survived, she had gone through.

A few seconds later, Cass's grandparents came through, looks of bewilderment on their faces. _I hope I didn't look like that_, Cass thought, knowing she probably had.

Just then, Cass noticed a rather large—and strange—looking group of people. Among them were a heavily-scarred man, a very elderly woman, a plump and kind-looking woman, several red-headed children, a red-headed man, a bushy-haired girl, a massive black—is that a dog?—a tired-looking man, and _a boy with untidy black hair and glasses. _

_Hmmm…_Cass mused. _So that is Harry Potter. _

OoOoO

Sirius walked through the gateway behind Molly, Tonks, and Harry. The walk to the train station had been long, and Sirius had enjoyed every minute of it. The old man didn't let him live. He had been stuck in Azkaban for twelve _effing_ years, he was _tired_ of being stuck inside.

Sirius wagged his tail at the Hogwarts Express; how he missed those days. James…Remus…_Peter_. Sirius shoved off the thought of the traitor, the rat, the horrible—Sirius cut himself off, not wanting to waste his little free time thinking about why everything had gone wrong.

Soon, Mad-Eye and the others arrived with the luggage. Mad-Eye looked at Sirius distastefully. _I guess I'm jeopardizing the mission…oops._ Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. Did he worry about ole' Moldy Voldy? Yes. Did he see him everywhere, even in the most obscure things (like a misplaced book)? Hell no.

Somewhere, a kid yelled, "Nice dog, Harry!" Sirius wagged his tail happily and barked. Harry scratched him behind the ears, and he licked the boy's hand. Harry didn't know this, but that was the spot his James had always scratched him.

A young girl—maybe a first-year- caught his eye. Sirius's heart skipped a beat. _Merlin's bloody pants…_The girl looked like Lily so much it _hurt_. Same high cheekbones, same body shape, same brilliantly green eyes. But it wasn't her. It was just a painful reminder of what could never be.

Sirius turned his head to find an identical set of emerald eyes staring into his eyes. Harry wore a puzzled look on his face. _Probably thinking why I stopped so abruptly,_ Sirius concluded. Harry's eyes moved from Padfoot's muzzle to the direction he had been looking in. Sirius watched as the boy's face took on a look of shock. _Oh, kid…_

Harry just looked at the girl. Sirius rubbed against his legs, as if to say 'Come on, kid. Just a coincidence.' Harry broke his eyes away from the girl and looked at Sirius with eyebrows raised. The boy shook his head and walked over to where his luggage was, pulling his trunk back over to Sirius.

"That is uncanny," Harry muttered from the corner of his mouth. Sirius just rubbed against his legs again in agreement. By now, everyone had gathered their things and Molly was herding the kids towards the red train. Sirius gave one last nudge to Harry with his legs before walking over to Remus. _I'll miss him so much. _

Remus was looking tired, too tired. Always so tired. Sirius felt deep sadness for his longest friend. _At least he can go out_, Sirius thought dryly.

The black dog nudged the werewolf's legs, pointing at the girl with his muzzle. _He would like to see the similarities_, thought Sirius. Sirius watched in amusement as his friend's mouth opened in surprise.

"That is uncanny…that girl looks _so much_ like Lily," he murmured, not taking his eyes off of the girl. At these words, Mad-Eye turned towards the man and dog.

As he followed Remus's gaze, he growled, "Well, it's not. Stop trying to relive the past and start paying attention to your surroundings. CONSTA—"

He was broken off by a loud whistle from the train. Sirius barked a dog-version of a laugh, and it only increased when Mad-Eye glared at him. Remus, Tonks, Arthur, and Molly waved as the train rolled out of the station. Sirius took it a step further and ran after the train, causing Molly to scoff and roll her eyes.

As the train slowly faded out of view, Sirius became grumpy. For him, it meant more time _hiding._

OoOoO

Harry searched for a compartment on the busy train. Ron and Hermione had gone to the prefects' carriage, so he walked with only Ginny. Walking up and down, he saw none that were empty. However, one had a fourth-year Ravenclaw girl in it, so Harry chose that one, and Neville Longbottom joined Harry and Ginny.

Harry could not stop thinking about the girl from before. She must be a first-year, Harry was sure he would never forget seeing a face _so much like his. _Harry recalled his mother's face from the Mirror of Erised and the connection his and Voldemort's wand had made, something Dumbledore had called _Priori Incantatem._ He recalled his mother's voice from the Dementors. _I wonder if the girl's voice is like Mum's,_ Harry thought. _Of course it isn't, don't be daft. It's just a coincidence. _

Ginny introduced the girl in the compartment as Loony—er, Lun_a_—Lovegood. Luna had stringy, long, blond hair and very wide eyes that made her look perpetually surprised.

The four talked for a while as the country-side zoomed by. Harry thought that Luna was very dotty, but he was surprised to find that she had very good insights to many interesting topics. After about thirty minutes or so, the conversation turned to everyone's summer.

When asked about his summer, Neville produced a strange plant. "Look, here, what my great-uncle Algie got me. It's called Quiritus Mimbletonia."

"That's quite impressive, Neville. Is your uncle a Mimbletonist? I hear the Snorkacks are attracted to them," Luna said in a singsong voice, fixing her bright eyes on Neville.

"Er…I—um, thanks. I don't know anything about…uh…" Neville spluttered, looking flustered. Harry didn't blame him, how do you respond to that? Harry decided to help out by saying, "So, uh, what does the…Quiritus…Mimblo—Mimbletongo—Mimbletonia do?" _Great delivery,_ Harry deadpanned to himself.

Neville looked relieved despite Harry's stuttering. "Loads and loads of things. If you touch a certain spot, it'll blow mucus everywhere!" At his words, Harry and Ginny paled, while Luna looked delighted. Seeing their reaction, Neville continued, "I won't do that now! But it does so much more than that, its defense mechanisms are absolutely wicked!"

Just then, Neville touched a part of the plant towards the bottom. A horrible, high-pitched shriek filled the train car. Harry's hand flew to cover his ears as he grimaced. Ginny winced and grabbed her ears, too. Neville jumped about a foot in the air, throwing the Quiritus Mimbletonia across the compartment. As it came into contact with the window, slime erupted out of its pores, covering all of them in green goop.

"Ugh! Ack! Neville!" Ginny squealed, wiping the muck from her eyes. Harry spit and bits of the stuff flew from his mouth.

"O-o-oh n-no! I-I-I'm s-so s-s-orry. I d-didn't k-k-know," Neville blubbered. Luna merely looked interested; she held her finger in front of her face to examine the goo.

The door to the compartment across from theirs slid open. A girl with dark, curly hair, high cheekbones, and brilliant green eyes came out of it and looked around in confusion. _Oh great, people noticed_, Harry dismayed. _Moreover, that girl noticed._

OoOoO

Cass had found a compartment towards the back. In it were a boy and two girls. The boy wore a black cloak, had brown eyes, and light brown hair. One girl had strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes, and the other had bright pink hair and…_violet eyes._

"Hey, do you guys mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full," Cass asked after sliding the door open, wondering about the girl's strange eye color.

The girl with the bright pink hair smiled, "Of course! Come on in!" Cass grinned back at her before stepping into the compartment, dragging her trunk behind her.

The brown-eyed boy hastily got up, and stammered, "Uh…I can, um, get your trunk?" Cass nodded and beamed at him. He smiled back shyly before grabbing her trunk and dragging it below the holding rack.

Cass watched in amusement as he struggled to lift it. Finally, he got it and sit back down. Cass sat next to him and she noticed that both of the other girls were holding in laughter.

Cass extended her hand to the girl with strawberry-blond hair. "My name is Cassandra McGarther, but you can call me Cass. I'm starting my first year at Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Brooke. First-year, as well," replied Brooke, shaking Cass's hand.

"I'm Rose Zeller, and—get this—I'm a first-year," said the other girl.

"My name is Bellerophon," said the boy shyly. He was _also _a first-year.

Cass could tell the boy felt insecure about his name, so she said, "That is such a wicked name! Like the Greek demigod?" Rose and Brooke smiled at her; Cass guessed they were glad she wasn't making fun of him.

Bellerophon's face lit up in surprise. "You know Greek myths?" Cass nodded; she had always thought they were interesting. "Uh, you can just call me Bello if you want," he finished quietly.

"Nice to meet you, Bello," Cass grinned. Rose was brushing her blue hair out of her face. _Wait, blue hair? Wasn't it just pink?_ Cass's surprise must have shown on her face, because both Rose and Brooke started giggling.

"Huh? I'm so confused," said Cass. "Wasn't it just pink?" Cass was slightly annoyed, she didn't like people laughing at her (even if the face she had made was funny).

Even Bello was chuckling, but he managed to choke out, "I'm sorry! It's just you did such a double-take, I couldn't help it. Rose is a Metamorphmagus, so that is why her hair changed color," he said this so matter-of-factly, like he expected Cass to understand immediately. _These kids must have been raised by wizards, if they know what a…Metamorphmagus is. _

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you Muggle-born? I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," questioned Bello quietly, his face taking on a look of guilt.

"Er…well, I don't know. I wasn't raised by my parents, so there is no way to tell if they were magical or not. But I was Muggle-raised. What is a Metamorphmagus?" Cass asked. No one asked more about her past, which made Cass like them. They respected her privacy.

"Well, a Metamorphmagus is someone who can alter their physical characteristics. The best of them can completely change their appearance, but I'm only half so I can just change my hair and eye color, and sometimes my facial structure," explained Rose. Cass just stared, open-mouthed. _People who can change appearance at will? Wicked!_ Cass repeated these sentiments aloud.

The rest of the train ride—almost—passed without incident. The four first-years talked and talked. Bello and Brooke knew each other from their moms being friends, it turned out. Rose was raised by her mum; her dad being killed in the last wizarding war. The three wizard-born children told Cass all they could about Voldemort and Harry Potter. They seemed impressed that Cass had used his actual name, even if a little pale at the same time.

After about forty or so minutes of talking, a terrible shrieking noise sounded from the compartment across from theirs. Four pairs of hands flew to four pairs of ears, and Cass grimaced. _What _is _that? _She thought wildly.

Cass dashed to the door and slid it open. She watched the compartment across from theirs get covered in slime after an older boy threw a plant away from him. Her mouth fell open from shock and her nose crinkled in disgust.

A goop-covered boy noticed her watching. With a start, Cass realized it was that Potter boy. _Again? Why do I keep running into him? And why was he staring at me back at the platform? _

Cass heard a muffled cry of, "Evanesco!" and the slime disappeared. Unconsciously, Cass's face had formed into an entertained one, so she hastily rearranged it into a merely interested one, not wanting to make anyone feel embarrassed (although, if she was being honest, ther was probably no avoiding it at this point).

Harry stepped out of the compartment. "Uh…are you a first-year?"

Cass was taken aback by the abrupt question, but replied anyway. "Yeah."

Harry nodded; he had probably been expecting that. "I saw you back at the platform, I—uh—just didn't want you to—er…I'm Harry Potter," he finished awkwardly.

Cass lifted her eyebrows. _Why was he staring like that?_ "Oh, I'm Cassandra McGarther. And, um, I knew that you were Harry Potter." Cass was amused by his stuttering—this was the boy who had won the Triwizard Cup? Her new friends had told her about the strange events that had occurred at Hogwarts last year (even though they themselves had not been at the school to witness it).

Harry looked glum about this. Sensing why he was upset, Cass said, "Well, um, just so you know, I don't believe that you're a—what did they say—oh, an attention-seeking brat." In fact, Cass didn't know what she thought about the matter, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

Just then, a red-haired, tall, and gangly boy and a very bushy-haired girl walked up to Harry and Cass.

"Bloody hell, mate, what was that? Sounded like Mrs. Black at her absolutely worst—" the boy cut off when he saw Cass. His mouth fell open as he looked between her and Harry. _What is it with these people? I know we're both green-eyed but seriously? I'm not a display to be goggled at._

The bushy-haired girl nudged the boy saying, "Don't be rude, Ronald. Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley. We're fifth year prefects, so if you have any questions please ask us," she said kindly, smiling warmly.

"Oh! No, I was just wondering what the noise was…um, I'll leave now," Cass said hastily, sliding the door to the compartment open.

Inside, Brooke demanded, "What happened out there?" Cass just shrugged; what did she know about magical plants?

After that, the ride was relatively smooth. In the span of about two and a half hours, Rose changed her hair from pink to blue to green to purple to red and finally back to pink, to Cass's great amusement. An hour or so in, Cass changed into her school robes.

In the middle of Bello telling a story, Cass suddenly looked up. A few seconds later, the train rolled to a stop. Her new friends looked confused; how had Cass known they were stopping? But Cass didn't notice this, her mind was focused on something entirely different.

_I'm at Hogwarts!_

_OoOoO_

**A/N: I know _Quiritus Mimbletonia_ is not the name of Neville's plant in the book. I have changed some of it's properties from the original ones as well, so it is only fitting to change it's name. Quiritus means scream or shriek in Latin. As for why I changed it, well, that's for me to know, isn't it? **


	5. Talking Hats and Strange Visions

**DISCLAIMER: As much as I would like to, I do not make any money off of writing this because, as much as I want to be, I am not JK Rowling—but I don't think she makes any money off of fanfiction, either. This disclaimer was not well thought out, oops! Uh…I don't own Harry Potter. There. **

**A/N: Hellooo! Thanks to all for reviewing, favoriting, following, and really just viewing this story. I am so grateful for all your encouraging reviews!**

**Also, this is the moment you've all been waiting for—or not. It's the Sorting! Yay! Enjoy, review if you want to, laugh at my poor attempts at humor, cry if you don't like it, review if you don't like it, review if you do like it, review 'cause I need reviews…um, sorry, I'm rambling. I'll stop trying to be funny (and begging for reviews) and get on with what we're all here for.**

OoOoO

A prominently-chinned woman with a severe haircut greeted the first-years as they stepped off the Hogwarts Express. "First years line up over here, please! All first years to me," she called.

A group of small kids flocked over to the woman. She led them off to the side and then down a dark and steep path surrounded by trees. Somewhere behind Cass, a girl whimpered, "Ugh, it's too cold! I feel like my toes are freezing off!"

Cass rolled her eyes at Rose, who could just be made out in the darkness. Rose narrowed her eyes for a second and Cass watched as her lips turned blue, as if she were cold. Rose then pretended to pout, her bottom lip quivering. Cass snickered quietly. Rose's lips turned back to their normal pink as she giggled, too.

The group reached the bottom of the path, stopping so suddenly that Bello ran into Cass's back.

"Oof! Sorry, Cass," he mumbled, taking a step backward…right onto another girl's foot.

"How dare you? These are Lovely Loafers, they were voted Witch Weekly's number one in witch's footwear!" she shrieked, flipping her long, curly-brown hair behind her. Cass recognized her voice from before, the one complaining about it being too cold.

However, Cass didn't get the chance to retort, as another girl muttered, "Merlin, Sasha, leave the boy alone. It was an accident, honestly, you act as if he ruined your life—sorry, he probably did." Cass laughed, immediately deciding to be the girl's friend. The girl had very curly, very dark hair that was cut just below her shoulders and framed her brown face.

"Hey, I'm Sarah," she introduced herself to Bello and Cass, ignoring Sasha's indignant look.

"I'm Cass. I was going to tell off Princess over there, but you beat me to it," said Cass, rolling her eyes at Sasha once again.

"My name is B-Bellerophon, but my friends call me Bello. Thanks for that," stammered Bello.

"Uh-huh. Don't mention it, someone has got to do it," shrugged Sarah. "I like that nickname—Princess. Fits her." The aforementioned Princess harrumphed, which was widely met with more eye rolls.

Rose and Brooke turned around to look at Sarah and introduced themselves. Brooke looked as if she wanted to say something, but the group emerged from the trees and her comment was cut off as they all stared in awe of the beautiful castle before them.

_Oh...it's magnificent_, thought Cass in amazement. It was a castle of many turrets and towers, of huge windows and arching doorways. All the windows sparkled with inner light and the castle was reflected on the large lake in front of the wide-eyed first years.

"It is wonderful, isn't it?" said the woman who had led them down the path. She allowed them to gawk at the castle for a few more moments before clearing her throat and saying, "Listen up, first-years. My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank. You will follow me across the lake in these rowboats," she gestured to small, wooden boats behind her that Cass hadn't noticed, "…and make sure to be careful, you do not want to fall in. Also, only four to a boat, please," Professor Grubbly-Plank finished.

All at once, the first-years rushed to the boats. Rose, Brooke, and Sarah got into a boat with a golden and frizzy-haired girl with blue eyes. Cass and Bello chose the boat to the right of theirs and climbed into it. A few seconds later, two boys joined them. One was very tall and gangly, with brown eyes and blond hair. The other was smaller, with blond, curly hair and hazel eyes. The tall one introduced himself as Nick and the hazel-eyed one said his name was Euan.

Cass sat down in the front of the rowboat, pulling her dark hair around her shoulders and tightening her scarf; however annoying Sasha is, she was right about it being cold. Cass looked around the small craft for the oars, getting confused when she found none. _How are we supposed to move?_ She questioned to herself. As if in answer, the boat launched forward on its own, being pulled by nothing. _No, not by nothing. By magic._

The herd of boats glided across the lake, leaving large ripples in their wake. Cass sensed rather than saw something in front of them, something radiating power and security and _magic._ However, none of her year-mates seemed to notice, so she said nothing. The closer they got to the school, the more nervous Cass became. She had read all about the four Houses of Hogwarts, but had not found a single thing about _how_ they were sorted into them. On the train, Rose had said that were tested in some way, but she didn't know how. To be safe, Cass ran over things she had read about in her head.

Suddenly, Cass felt something warm pass over her body, spreading to every nerve, every _cell_ in her. Somewhere inside her, _something_ awoke, filling Cass. She gave a shudder and an unnatural, hot breeze ruffled her hair. _What was that? _

Cass cast her eyes around the boat. Thankfully, none of her boat-mates seemed to have noticed what had happened. Looking around at the other boats, Cass noticed Professor Grubbly-Plank looking at her strangely, appraisingly. _Had she noticed?_

The professor _must _have noticed Cass's look of confusion, for she said, "We have just passed through the wards of the school. These are the protections placed around it and, over the years, they have accumulated. Some of them are as old as the founders; some have just been placed on the school within the last century. So, if you felt a crackle of magic…that is why."

All around Cass, people started muttering.

"Did _you _feel anything?"

"Guys, I think I did feel something…"

"Merlin, I think I felt something _calling _for me, whispering to me, wanting my power." Cass picked this voice out from the rest; it was Sasha. Cass rolled her eyes (again), but kept silent throughout everyone's mutterings.

Behind Cass, Euan and Nick were whispering to each other. "So, mate, did you feel any magic?" Euan asked.

"Of course I did, did _you?"_ Nick replied, puffing out his chest. Cass made a gagging gesture to Bello on her right, who snickered. But then he looked at Cass funny; _uh oh, had he noticed after all?_ Thought Cass worriedly. She didn't want to bring attention upon herself on her very first day. However, the look melted off of Bello's face and he smiled, pointing to somewhere ahead of him. Cass didn't have to turn her head to know that they had arrived at the shore of the lake, she just did.

_Welp, here I go. _

OoOoO

Professor McGonagall greeted the first-years just inside the huge oak doors Professor Grubbly-Plank had led them through. She wore the same expression that had always appeared on her face; a very, _very_ stern one.

Cass's head was still spinning over what had happened with the wards of Hogwarts. Why had she felt like that? Did anyone else feel it? Cass had a hard time believing Sasha had actually felt it, but what about Nick? Soon, all thoughts of the wards faded from her mind, for Professor McGonagall had started speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, students. In a few moments, you will take your seats in the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast, but only after being Sorted into your Houses—Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. You will do well to bring pride upon your House, and would do well not to defile its name. In Hogwarts, your House will be like your family, so I—and every other Head of House—expect you to treat it as such.

"Between the Houses is an annual competition called the House Cup. The House to win this House Cup is the House with the most points at the end of the year, which are earned through triumphs. Be forewarned; points _can _be taken away, and _will _be if any of you break the rules." Cass was intrigued by the idea of the House Cup. She wondered if the House that won received anything or if it was just an honorary thing. But then her thoughts returned to how they would be sorted _into_ their House. Nervousness threatened to overcome her, but Cass pushed it off, thinking, _Stop being a baby. It can't be that bad._

Immediately, Cass's vision blurred and was replaced with something else, something not of this time, but of a time somewhere…farther. The future.

_An old hat sat atop a three-legged stool. An almost mouth-like rip was at its base and, suddenly, it _was _a mouth. It spouted words from this 'mouth', words like "GRYFFINDOR!" and "SLYTHERIN!"_

Cass was pulled back to the present by Professor McGonagall saying, "I shall be back when we are ready for you." The stern witch walked off, leaving behind the nervous first-years and a very bewildered Cass.

Cass's eyes were watering and she blinked multiple times, trying to adjust her sight back to…right now. _Ohmygod, ohmygod! I just Saw the future!_ Cass had just Seen the future! She thought back to what had happened in the lake, that feeling of being awoken. What if her Seer ability had always been there, lying dormant except for a few instances? What if…so busy with the fact that she _had_ a vision, Cass had forgotten about _what _the vision was.

_An old hat is placing me in my House? What? How does that even work? _Cass questioned. However, a collective gasp came from the crowd of first-years, and Cass was pulled from her thoughts as shimmery, transparent beings floated into the entrance hall.

"Eek!" Bello jumped at the ghosts, who were talking amongst themselves. At the sound of terrified students (_honestly, it isn't that bad, _Cass thought), what looked to be a round, small monk turned towards them.

"Ah! New students! Say, are you guys about to get Sorted?" asked the ghost-monk.

No one seemed like they were going to answer, so Cass said, "Yes, sir."

"None of that 'sir' business. I'm the Fat Friar, but you may call me Friar. I hope you get Sorted into Hufflepuff. That was my old house, you know," the Fat Friar beamed.

Cass just smiled back at him, though she was a little disturbed. Despite what she had thought to herself, these people, these _ghosts_ were _dead. _No amount of cheeriness on the Fat Friar's part could change that.

Cass turned her head to see that Professor McGonagall had come back. "We're ready for you now. Form a line, students." The ghosts disappeared through the wall behind Professor McGonagall, and the Fat Friar gave a small wave to the students in goodbye.

Cass walked to the front of the line that was forming. _Even if I don't feel confident, I can very well act it._ The small boy that had previously been there looked relieved that he would not be the first to walk into the Great Hall. Seeing Cass, Brooke, Rose, Bello, and Sarah walked over to her, standing just behind Cass.

Professor McGonagall looked over them once, and, seeing them fit to be viewed by the school, led them through the large doors.

The Great Hall was _enormous_ and filled with candle after candle, each floating in the air. _Wow._ Four great tables filled the main area, with a smaller one towards the back. Each of the four main tables held students with lined, black robes, with each table's students' robes lined with different colors. _Those must be the house colors_, thought Cass. In the middle of the table at the end of the hall—which Cass assumed was the teacher's table—sat a cheery man in bright, silver robes. The man was older, with a long, white beard—long enough to tuck into his beard—and twinkling eyes. _Albus Dumbledore_.

Cass had read all about the Savior of the Wizarding World, the Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, Grand Sorcerer, Headmaster to Hogwarts—_my goodness, too many titles_. Of course, it was very hard _not_ to know who Albus Dumbledore was, what with everything he had done. Cass was impressed by what he had done, but, seeing the man in person, she gained real _respect _for him. Headmaster Dumbledore didn't look arrogantly at the students, or the teachers—even with all his accomplishments. He looked genuinely happy about being there, wearing a warm, welcoming, and benign smile.

Cass looked up, and her mouth fell open in shock and wonder. There wasn't a ceiling! It was just the beautiful night sky, lit with thousands of tiny, sparkling stars. Her awe lasted all of five seconds before her logic caught up with her; there hadn't been an open ceiling on the outside, so how could there _possibly_ be one on the inside? It just didn't make sense…Cass recalled one of the books she had bought called _Hogwarts: A History_. In it, Cass had learned about the enchanted ceiling of Hogwarts' Great Hall. _And you couldn't remember that when you were gawking at the ceiling like an idiot?_

The first-years walked between two of the tables filled with students. Many of the older students smiled warmly at Cass and her year-mates, but that did little stop Cass's anticipation. _What House will I be in? Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff? Slytherin?_

The line halted before the students at the tables, with the teacher's table behind the first-years. The faces of the students were very pale in the light of the candles, and all of them were looking at the first-years with mild interest. Cass did her very best not to squirm under their gazes.

Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool in front of the gathered first-years, and on that she placed a battered-looking hat.

Cass very nearly choked. _That…that is the hat from my vision._ It was just then, in front of hundreds of students, that Cass fully comprehended what had happened. _I really did See the future…holy mother of treacle tarts._

_Why am I even worrying over what House I will be in? I can just…_ Cass concentrated, but did her very best to appear nonchalant on the outside (she didn't want people to think her mad). _Future, future, future…_

Nothing. Of course, nothing had happened. _I suppose I'll just have to wait. _

A rip at the bottom of the hat opened and it began sing its song. The only sound in the Hall was that of the Sorting Hat's voice. It sang of grand Houses and threatening dangers, and Cass found herself completely entranced by its hoarse words. It was warning the school of something, a dark something, an evil something.

Cass stared at the hat in amazement and confusion as the hat stopped singing and became inanimate once more. Her vision had not shown her _that_… what was _that_? Applause broke out across the Great Hall, but with it were many mutterings and whispers. Many of the students seemed perplexed, suggesting to Cass that this was not a normal song for the Hat. She exchanged a glance with Rose, who had turned her hair to a ceremonious brown. The Metamorphmagus had her eyebrows raised, confirming Cass's beliefs that, even for wizards, the Hat's warning was unusual.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, sending a glare to all the whispering students. She shook out a roll of parchment and called out,

"Abercrombie, Euan!"

One of the boys Cass had shared a boat with, the smaller one, walked to the stool nervously, stumbling a bit. _Poor bloke_, Cass thought. Euan sat down on the stool gingerly and the hat was placed on his head.

When placed atop Euan's locks, the hat became animate again. After of few seconds of contemplation on the hat's part—and a lot of nervousness on Euan's part—a loud "GRYFFINDOR!" was called out. The table on the far left exploded in cheers for their new Housemate.

"Barnes, Nick!" The other boy from Cass's boat walked confidently forward and sat on the stool. The hat came down on his head, a moment's pause and—

"GRYFFINDOR!" Applause erupted once more at the Gryffindor table. Two red-haired boys that looked to be twins were shouting, "Two for two, baby! Yeah!"

"Chare, Katie!" was followed by a, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the right cheered and clapped, welcoming their new Housemate.

"Conrad, Andrew…Crespo, Rachel…Cubrusi, Janelle!" Names were being called fast and Cass found herself getting more and more anxious. Any time she would be going up there…

"Glaucuson, Bellerophon!"

Next to Cass, Bello jumped, causing a few snickers from the students at the tables. Cass glared in the general direction hard enough to rival even Professor McGonagall (who was also glaring) and gave Bello an encouraging nudge. To Cass's right, Brooke patted Bello's shoulder. Emboldened, Bello walked to the stool and sat…only to miss the seat and fall on his bottom.

_Oh no! Poor Bello! _Cass thought, trying to keep traitorous urges to laugh at bay (in her defense, it _was_ rather funny). Red-faced, Bello got up and sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head, which soon shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Professor McGonagall continued to read from the list of students, "Kirkus, John!" went to "SLYTHERIN!" After him was "Li, Christopher!" and "RAVENCLAW!" received a new Housemate.

"Lyonslatter, Cyrene!" A frizzy, golden-haired girl with blue eyes walked to the stool and sat down gracefully. Cass recognized her as the girl who had ridden on the boat with Rose, Brooke, and Sarah. About thirty seconds later, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

"MacDougal, Sarah!"

Sarah broke off from the gathered group of first-years, her springy curls bouncing with her steps. She eyed the hat warily as it was placed atop her head.

The hat sat there for a moment, oddly contemplative for an object. _Well, duh, it is a _magic_ object and contemplating is its _job. _What else is it supposed to do?_, Cass thought to herself. Finally, the hat yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" The table with students with their green-accented robes cheered. Cass cheered in her head for her new friend, not sharing the same prejudice that most had when it came to the Slytherin House.

One "Mackey, Oliver!" and "RAVENCLAW!" later, and Professor McGonagall called out,

"McGarther, Cassandra!"

Cass felt spikes of apprehension shoot down her chest, but she forcefully shoved them down and walked up in what she hoped to be a confident manner. She sat on the stool lightly and tried not to be intimidated by the faces staring up at her. Cass felt the hat being placed on her head, then immediately her world went dark as the brim covered her eyes.

"_Well…you are interesting," _a voice whispered in Cass's head. She shivered, despite it being quite warm in the Hall as a result from all the candles.

"_Yes, very interesting…unique. You have a gift, child…where to put you in order to _exploit _that gift?" _Cass felt as though every part of her was being inspected—no, more than that. _Judged._ She did not like the feeling at all. _"Most do not like it, but you are right about being judged. I am the Sorting Hat, it is what I do._

"_I sense intelligence in you. Ravenclaw would serve you well…" _The hat trailed off, lost in its thoughts. _No, lost in _my _thoughts, _Cass amended. _"But would it serve you the _best?

"_I see much ambition in you, too. You want to know all you can, you want to do your best, you want to _be _the best…but you are not a Slytherin. You lack the bias towards Salazar Slytherin's Noble House, unlike so many other people…this shows your kindness," _

The Sorting Hat seemed to be talking (thinking?) to itself now. Outside the warm hat, Cass could hear murmurs of "Hatstill" all around the Hall. She decided to file that away for later and thought, _"Mr. Sorting Hat, what did you mean by me being unique? Surely there have been other Seers before?" _

"_Well of course there have been other Seers before! But you, _you_ are different. You See not only the future, but the past and present. Therefore, you are different." _Cass almost denied it (how could she be different?) but then she recalled her vision from the Knight Bus, the one with the man falling to a green flash and a woman screaming. She had puzzled over that in the two weeks since, and if what the Sorting Hat said was true…had Cass Seen the past?

"_Right there! Right…no, that isn't right either! Hufflepuff? No, too cunning. Slytherin? No, too kind. Ravenclaw? No, too daring. Gryffindor…just maybe." _

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Light flooded into Cass's eyes as the Sorting Hat was plucked off her. The table adorned in red burst into cheers, stamping their feet. _How long was I under that thing? _

So absorbed in the fact that the hat had _finally_ been taken off the first-year, none of the students ha noticed the wide grin that had stretched across Cass's face _before _it happened.

OoOoO

**A/N (part two): For any wondering about why Cass could See the Sorting Hat but not what House she will be in (at least not until right before the Sorting Hat called it out) it is because CASS IS NOT OMNISCIENT! I cannot stress this enough. I REALLY don't want an OP character on my hands. **

**Cass is able to See the immediate and most sure-to-happen future quite easily. The surer something is, the sooner Cass can See it. Because of the Sorting Hat's debate over which House to put Cass in (this is called a Hatstill, and no, I didn't pull it out of my head. I read about it on Pottermore), Cass could not see its decision. **

**So, since the Sorting Hat was going to Sort Cass **_**no matter what**_**, Cass was clearly able to See it. However, because of the many variables that went into which House the Sorting Hat picked, Cass was not able to See that. **

**Just wanted to 'show my work' and clarify on Cass's vision. **

**Until next time, **

**Inis'sPromise**


	6. A Toad and a Graveyard

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not mine, he is JKR's…and Ginny's. **

**A/N: Hellooo! Thanks to all those who reviewed, followed, favorited, and took the time to read this story! I can't believe how much this story has been liked; over 900 views in just two weeks! You guys are amazing! **

**I realize that the first-years' schedules are a little iffy. I know that, realistically, the students at Hogwarts should have more than just two classes a day (three on Wednesdays if you count Astronomy). However, the scheduling doesn't really affect the plot, and I will keep the classes consistent, so I don't think it will be a problem.**

**There were some problems with my last chapter. I wanted to edit it, but I accidently reuploaded it somehow? I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I apologize for any inconvenience. I'll blame it on the fact that this is my first story and I'm relatively new to FFN. **

**Enough of my rambling, please enjoy!**

OoOoO

Cass followed the bushy-haired girl and the red-haired boy from the train, who were something called prefects. _Hermione and Ronald,_ she recalled their names. Brooke walked beside her, her strawberry-blond hair bouncing in its ponytail. Brooke was the only Gryffindor girl Cass knew (unless you count the two giggling girls from Madam Malkin's, which Cass didn't). Rose and Bellerophon had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Sarah (as well as _Princess _Sasha) had been Sorted into Slytherin. The two boys from the boat ride, Euan and Nick, had also been Sorted into Gryffindor.

Cass pondered the new teacher, Professor Umbridge, and her sudden speech during the Welcome Feast. Of course, Cass knew that there was a Ministry of Magic, but why were they sending their employees to Hogwarts? It seemed strange to Cass, but she just shrugged it off.

"Keep up, first-years," Hermione said with an air of authority. "_Ron, get over here and help lead!" _The red-haired boy had trailed behind the first-years and was talking to a raven-haired boy that Cass recognized as Harry Potter. _Oh, that's right. Harry is in Gryffindor._

"Merlin, Hermione, I was just talking to Harry." All around Cass, first-years started to whisper excitedly at the mention of the Boy-Who-Lived. Ronald continued, "Honestly, you act as if I've done something wrong…"

Cass and Brooke exchanged amused smiles at the prefect's bickering. Then, Cass turned to the first-year in red box-braids behind her, the only other Gryffindor girl. "Hey, I'm Cassandra McGarther, but call me Cass. I guess we're roommates," she introduced herself.

"I'm Pauline Ross," she girl replied, not even returning Cass's smile.

"And I'm Brooke Miller. Nice to meet you, Pauline."

Pauline just grunted and walked towards the outskirts of the group. _Ok, then…_

"How rude! I said, 'nice to meet you' and everything!" Brooke scoffed, affronted.

"It's okay, maybe she is just nervous or something…Hey, look, I think we're here!" Cass exclaimed. Hermione and Ronald (really just Hermione) had led the first-year Gryffindors to a…painting? _Huh, ok._ The painting was of a rather large lady in pink.

Brooke gave Cass a look that said, 'you think _this _is here?' Cass just nodded towards Hermione, for the young witch had started talking.

"Okay, this is the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. This painting—"

"—known as the Fat Lady," Ronald cut in, causing the painting to look affronted. For a second, Cass was shocked that the picture had moved, but then she remembered the newspapers in Diagon Alley.

Hermione glared at Ronald crossly, but continued, "_Anyway,_ in order to get into the tower, you must say the password, and the door will open up. The password is _Quiritus Mimbletonia_." At her words, the Fat Lady swung open, and Hermione and Ronald led the first-years into the Gryffindor Tower.

The room was furnished with fluffy armchairs and decked out in red and gold. A fire burned in its hearth, filling the Gryffindor common room with warmth and light. Cass immediately felt at home in the tower.

"Okay, so the girl's dormitories are to the right, the boys, to the left," Hermione said, gesturing with her hands. "Your luggage has already been moved to your rooms. The loos are connected to the dormitories. Any questions?"

Cass and the new Gryffindors shook their heads. She yawned; the Welcoming Feast had been delicious and rich, and it had given Cass a sleepy, lulling feeling. She, Brooke, and Pauline headed up the spiral staircase to their dormitories.

The girl's dormitories were simple, but nice. The four-poster beds were hung with thick, velvet, and red curtains. Each bed had a small nightstand and a chair next to it. On the chairs were Cass's, Brooke's, and Pauline's trunks.

Cass took the swirling galaxy bag that held her toiletries from her trunk and walked to the bathroom connected to the dormitory. A few seconds later, Brooke and Pauline joined her, and the three Gryffindor girls prepared for bed in silence, too tired to talk.

That night, even though Cass was exhausted from her long day, she couldn't fall asleep. Thoughts of magic, spells, and potions kept her awake. Finally, sleep embraced her, and Cass dreamt dreams of wonder.

OoOoO

Cass blinked her eyes groggily and tried to dispel any remaining sleepiness. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the dormitory, just peeking through Cass's drawn curtains. She sat up and stretched her arms and all notions of sleep vanished as she thought, _Today I learn magic!_

Cass opened her curtains and her trunk, then pulled out black robes. She skipped to the loo, excited for her first day. Cass showered and dressed before pulling her curly hair into a loose, but not messy, ponytail. She smoothed her collar, brushed her teeth, and was out of the bathroom just as Brooke crawled out of bed.

"Hey, Cass! Calm down a bit, 'kay?" said Brooke sleepily.

"I'm just so excited!" Cass squealed. However, she calmed herself, not wanting to be _too _zealous. "Do you want to head down together?" Cass asked, making sure to include Pauline in her question.

"Yes."

"No."

Cass just nodded to Pauline and sat on her bed to wait for Brooke. While Brooke got ready, Cass took out her school bag—a beige backpack with brown straps—and placed ink, quills, and parchment in it. _I'll come back and put the books for today in it when Professor McGonagall gives us our schedules. _

When Brooke was ready, the two friends left, leaving Pauline _still _in her bed. Cass thought about offering to wait again but decided against it. Pauline was certainly capable of walking down by herself.

In the common room, Cass could see a few other Gryffindors mulling about, either waiting for someone or blinking sleep from their eyes. From a corner, the two girls Cass had met in Madam Malkin's—Parvati and Lavender—waved at her. Cass smiled and waved back, causing Brooke to furrow her eyebrows in confusion.

"I met them in Diagon Alley, when Professor McGonagall took me to get my supplies," Cass explained.

"Oh." Brooke opened the door and the two girls exited Gryffindor Tower. They trudged all the way down to the Great Hall, where Rose, Bello, and some other girl with chin-length brown hair and green eyes greeted them.

"Good morning, guys. This is Janelle Cubrusi, she is in Hufflepuff," said Rose. Today, she sported bright blue eyes and spiky, black hair.

"Nice to meet you, Janelle. I'm Cass. And, Rose, I _love_ the look," Cass grinned. Rose beamed.

Brooke introduced herself to Janelle, who seemed very sweet and caring to Cass. The girl gave a lot of compliments to everyone and her smile never faltered. Cass felt that she had met some good people already, and she was grateful that she didn't have a hard time fitting in. Janelle, it turns out, was also Muggle-raised, being a Muggle-born. Her and Cass talked for a bit about non-magic stuff, before the first-years all moved to their respective House tables.

As they sat down at the already-crowded Gryffindor table, Cass noticed Sarah across the hall, at the Slytherin table. She waved to Sarah, who brightened and waved back, causing a couple of other students to raise their eyebrows questioningly. _Stupid Gryffindor-Slytherin prejudice, _Cass thought.

Brooke noticed Cass waving at Sarah and quickly turned away, though she didn't say anything. Cass decided not to comment on it, not wanting to have a row with her new friend. Instead, she piled eggs, sausage, and bacon onto her plate and dug in.

Three boys came swaggering up to Cass and Brooke. With a start, Cass recognized the two boys that had ridden with her and Bello on the rowboat: Euan and Nick. The other boy was new and had black hair and blue eyes.

What was interesting, though, was that all three boys had slicked their hair back with _way_ too much hair gel. Each boy wore an identical expression of contempt and arrogance. _What happened to the small boy that tripped on his way up to Sorted_? Cass wondered.

"Hello, ladies. Sleep well?" The new boy said, smirking at them. Cass narrowed her eyes at him. Who did this _boy_ think he was? The boy, either oblivious to Cass's glare or choosing to ignore it, continued, "Name's Smith. Jackson Smith."

Cass and Brooke exchanged glances that said, 'is he serious?' Cass smirked back at him and said, "Who are you? James Bond? Who else introduces themselves like that?" Jackson looked affronted and shocked, as if he expected that to go better. _Git._ "And what did you do to your hair?" Cass added as an afterthought, thinking it would do the most damage to the boy's pride.

"It's a very distinguished look! All the best wizards wear their hair like this!" Nick cut in angrily. Brooke quirked an eyebrow and Cass shot a pointed at Headmaster Dumbledore sitting at the teacher's table, whose long, gleaming silver hair and beard fell onto his bright robes.

Nick and Jackson ignored Cass's look, and Euan said, "Well, have a good morning, ladies. Come, guys. We must maintain our fearsome bods." Cass and Brooke watched with barely contained laughter as the three Gryffindor boys walked to where a couple of older, cool-looking Gryffindors were sitting. One of the older boys shooed them off, causing Nick, Euan, and Jackson to sulk. _What pompous idiots. _

Finally, Brooke couldn't take it any longer and she burst out laughing, her eyes steaming. Cass joined her until they saw Professor McGonagall walking around and handing out schedules. Cass grew excited, yearning to see her classes.

"Miss Miller, Miss McGarther, here are your schedules. Please be on time to every class and ask the prefects if you need any help," said the witch briskly, before striding away to more students.

Cass looked over her schedule, immediately trying to memorize it so she wouldn't have to walk around with a piece of parchment in front of her face all day. On Mondays, she had Charms in the morning and Herbology in the afternoons, with breaks in between the classes and lunch. On Tuesdays, it was Transfiguration then Defense Against the Dark Arts. Wednesdays were the same as Mondays, except all first-years had Astronomy at night. Thursdays followed the same schedules as Tuesdays, and Fridays were Potions in the morning and History of Magic in the afternoon.

Today it was Tuesday, so Gryffindors shared Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Cass finished her breakfast and ran up to the dormitory with Brooke to get their bags and appropriate books. Cass noted with disapproval that Pauline was still in bed, reading a novel written by some author Cass didn't know. Cass gently reminded Pauline that class was going to start soon, hoping that the girl didn't get upset with her. Cass's hope was in vain; Pauline had groaned and dragged herself out of bed before heading to the bathroom, all the while shooting Cass murderous looks.

Brooke had started to follow Pauline angrily, but Cass—who had _known_ what was coming—grabbed the cuff of her sleeve and pulled her back, murmuring, "Don't, it's fine. I don't what her problem is, but whatever you're going to do will just make it worse." Cass didn't mention how she had half the thought to go confront Pauline herself, to explain that she was only trying to help.

Brooke just scowled and rolled her eyes at Cass, saying, "Whatever." Cass sighed and slung her backpack onto her shoulder. She headed downstairs with Brooke at her heels.

In the common room, Cass spotted the thick hair of Hermione Granger, the prefect. She moved over to her and asked, "Hermione, right?"

Hermione, who had been telling off two redhead boys about some flyer, turned to Cass and replied, "Yes, I am. Do you guys need any help?"

The two boys were gesturing at the flyer and to Cass behind Hermione's back, grinning and pointing. Cass ignored them. "Yes, we were just wondering if you could tell us where the Transfiguration classroom is. I don't want to get lost on my first day, you see."

"Sure, here…" Hermione gave them very elaborate directions, even going as far as to pull out a map and highlight their route. _Okay…._

On their way to Transfiguration, Brooke said, "Maybe we should ask someone else next time."

Cass giggled, "Yeah, probably. But Hermione _is_ nice."

They continued the rest of the way in a debate on what they would be doing in class. Brooke believed that Professor McGonagall would teach them how to change animals into objects. Cass, however, took a more practical approach; Seeing the future. While Brooke was rambling about this or that, Cass closed her eyes. She didn't really know what to do, but she tried chanting _Transfiguration, Transfiguration, Transfiguration _in her head. When she nearly ran into a suit of armor, Cass opened her eyes and stumbled back.

_Oops! _"Ha! What happened?" Brooke barked, giggling.

"Uh…I'm clumsy sometimes." Cass glowered at Brooke; she did _not_ like being laughed at. Eventually, though, Cass started laughing along with Brooke. When Brooke started rambling again (wow, this girl liked to talk), Cass tried again.

This time, Cass stretched her mind away from her, seeking for something. Her eyes watered beneath her lids, but she _pushed_ and…

_A witch clad in emerald robes swished her wand, and a desk morphed into a pig, and then back to a desk once again. _

_Rows of black-robed students, including a curly-haired girl and a girl with strawberry blonde hair, began to attempt to turn matchsticks into needles, with very little success. _

Cass was pulled back to the present with a flash of pain behind her eyes. Brooke was just finishing the sentence she had been saying before Cass's vision.

"You know what I think we'll be doing? Something simple, like turning wood into metal," said Cass confidently.

Brooke looked like she was about to say something, but then they arrived at the Transfiguration classroom. The doors were already open, so the two Gryffindors just walked in. Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk and nodded to Cass and Brooke as her way of greeting the first-years. They took their seats right in the front of the class and Cass checked her watch; they had six minutes until class started.

There were only three other people in the classroom, and they were all Hufflepuffs. Cass didn't recognize them. Cass got out her textbook and some parchment, ink, and a quill. To her left, Brooke was doing the same.

About five minutes after Cass and Brooke had arrived at the classroom, Rose and Janelle walked in, laughing. Upon seeing Cass and Brooke, the two Hufflepuff girls sat down next to them.

"Hey, guys!" greeted Janelle cheerfully, even though they had last seen her maybe ten minutes ago. Two Gryffindor boys Cass didn't know walked in and took their seats.

"Hey, again," Cass replied, smiling. Bello walked in after, his face red, and said, "Guys! I told you to wait, you know I can't walk very fast and—"

"—Mr. Glaucuson do take your seat," said Professor McGonagall curtly, giving Bello a hard look.

"Er, yes sir—ma'am!"

Cass choked back her laughter as a very embarrassed Bello took his seat next to Cass. He shot her a begging look that said, 'please don't laugh at me!' Cass controlled herself, albeit with difficulty.

"Is everyone here? Good, let's begin." Professor McGonagall stood from her desk and walked around it. "Transfiguration is one of the most dangerous and difficult branches of magic. It involves precise wand movements and clear pronunciations," Professor McGonagall looked around the room sternly. "I warn you: anyone fooling around in my class will be escorted out and will _not_ be permitted to return. I will accept no funny business in this area of your learning, am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cass said, and the rest of the class followed suit. Pleased, Professor McGonagall took her wand out from her robes.

Cass thought she knew what came next because of her vision, but 'ooohed' and 'ahhed' along with the rest of the first-years when Professor McGonagall turned a desk into a pig then back into a desk. Cass was very impressed with the whole display. Bello had even started to clap, but he stopped abruptly when no one else followed. Cass watched in amusement as his face turned a bright, tomato-ish red. Behind his back, Rose changed her face to an identical shade of red, making Brooke snort.

"Now, we will not be transforming objects into animals for a long time," Professor McGonagall explained. Cass shot Brooke a triumphant look that said, 'I told you so!' Brooke stuck her tongue out in reply, taking care to not let the professor see. "Today, after taking some notes on basic Transfiguration principles, we will be turning matches into needles."

Cass looked at Brooke smugly, having been right about what they were going to do in class today. _I did cheat…oh well. _Brooke looked astonished that Cass had guessed correctly, but she managed to glare at her.

The class then proceeded to take very complicated notes on the processes of Transfiguration. After developing a rather uncomfortable hand cramp, Cass was told that they could finally take out their wands and begin working on turning their matches into needles.

When Cass pulled out her elegant, silver wand, Janelle exclaimed, "Oh, Cass! Your wand is beautiful!" Brooke had immediately burst into a fit of giggles at the compliment, earning a hard glare from Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, get your head out of the gutter, Brooke. And thank you, Janelle. It's Silver Lime wood," Cass replied, elbowing Brooke in the ribs. The group of friends didn't talk for a while, for they were concentrating on the task at hand.

After many tries (much _too _many in Cass's opinion), her match turned silver and had a pointy end. Rose's looked almost as needle-like as Cass's, but Bello's had somehow started to look more like a twisted hunk of wood than the match it had been originally.

"Very well, Miss McGarther and Miss Zeller," commended Professor McGonagall. She raised an eyebrow at Bello. "Mr. Glaucuson, what _have _you done?" As Bello tried to explain what he had been doing, Brooke suddenly let out an exclamation of fear.

"Eek! It caught fire!" Brooke stamped out the match onto the desk, making a large, black mark appear on the smooth wood. Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a thin line and flicked her wand at Brooke's desk. The black smudge of ash disappeared, leaving behind only a blushing Brooke.

"Class, you will begin packing up your things," said Professor McGonagall crossly. Cass obeyed, exchanging a glance with Brooke. Cass displayed her almost-needle proudly (and jokingly) making Brooke perform a throttling gesture. Rose just giggled, while Janelle said, "It's okay, you'll get it next time, Brooke."

After Transfiguration, Cass tried to find Sarah to ask her how her morning had gone. She finally tracked her down in lunch and went to the Slytherin table, ignoring the looks of confusion sent her way. Sarah was sitting at the far end of the table, next to other Slytherin first-years.

Cass tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Hey, Sarah. How are you?"

Sarah turned her head around and smiled at Cass. "Good, how are you?"

"I'm great! I thought Transfiguration was amazing!" Cass replied. She noticed a couple of older Slytherins glaring at her, but, again, she ignored it. "Has the Princess been bothering you?"

All around Sarah, the Slytherins rolled their eyes as one. After doing that herself, Sarah said, "Ohhh, yes! She was _livid_ that you got the attention of the hall with that Hatstall thing. Pouted the whole way down to the Slytherin common rooms. Then, to top it off, she put two and two together and realized that she would be _sharing _a room and pitched a tantrum."

"Of course, her being a rich pureblood, everyone just _fawned _over her," a black-haired boy to Sarah's right said.

"Aren't all of you guys rich purebloods?" Cass smirked, causing the boy to narrow his eyes, but the rest of the small group laughed.

"You know it!" Sarah said, smirking right back at Cass. "But Sasha's family is older than the Malfoys—they're a _very _prominent wizarding family—and almost as rich. That puts her in line for our year's _throne_." Sarah had spat that last word out, showing just a little she cared for it.

"Wow, I didn't realize school was so complex for wizards. Here I was thinking that we came to learn," Cass deadpanned.

The black-haired boy laughed again. "Eh, for most of us that _is _why. For people like Princess—"

"—Hey, firstie, what are _you _doing here?" came the bossy voice of an older Slytherin boy. "Are you—are you a _Gryffindor?" _

Cass turned her head towards the direction of the voice. She panicked for a second—what should she do? People were starting to stare… Cass resolved herself and sent back, "Yep, and proud of it! I'm talking to my _friend." _

Sarah whispered, "Maybe you should go, Cass. I think we have Defense Against the Dark Arts together, so I'll see you then."

Cass nodded, "Yeah. 'Bye." She walked back across the hall to Brooke, who just sat with her mouth open in shock. "What?" Cass asked, confused.

"That was so wicked! You were like 'yep, and proud of it!' Completely mental, but I _love_ the attitude!" Brooke said in one breath.

"How was it 'completely mental?' And how did you hear it? I was across the hall!"

Brooke rolled her eyes. "The whole hall got quiet; it isn't often a Gryffindor is friends with a Slytherin. As for you being mental, telling off an older _Slytherin_? Seriously?"

"Hey, none of that prejudice stuff. Just 'cause they're in Slytherin, that does _not_ mean that they're bad. Sarah is great and she's in Slytherin."

Brooke just raised her eyebrows and shoveled pasta into her mouth. _Whatever,_ Cass thought.

"Hey, Brooke, what is a Hatstall, anyway? Sarah mentioned it," Cass asked.

Brooke replied, "Well, it is when the Sorting Hat takes a _really_ long time to Sort someone. It means that the student has a lot of the qualities of _all _the Houses. I don't really know much else, except that it is supposed to be rare."

Cass frowned. _Rare? _"Ok, thanks." She finished her lunch in silence, wondering why _she _had caused a Hatstall.

OoOoO

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Cass sat in the second row with Sarah on one side and Brooke on the other side. She had her wand out and was eager to start class. However, all her eagerness went out the window when the pink-robed, toad-faced Professor Umbridge announced that they were going to be _reading _the whole class.

_Reading? I didn't come to a magic school to _read! Cass thought, but nevertheless, she put away her wand and dug out the required book from her backpack.

Brooke, however, asked, "Ma'am, will we be learning any spells? Or _casting_ any spells?"

Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly—too sweetly—at Brooke, and replied, "Why would you need to, child?"

At this, Cass raised her eyebrows and exchanged a disbelieving look with Sarah, who said, "You mean, we won't be performing _any _magic?"

Professor Umbridge turned her toad-head to face Sarah. "I thought I said that." She was still smiling that poisonous smile.

"But this is a magic school!" Cass exclaimed.

Professor Umbridge looked at Cass through narrow eyes. While most might have shrunk back under her beady-eyed gaze, Cass only lifted her chin a bit, not enough to be defiant, but _definitely _not compliant. "I will _not _tolerate children speaking out of turn! Please read your assigned pages!" Professor Umbridge said through gritted teeth.

Cass kept her head up for a good five seconds longer before lowering it to read. Ignoring the writing on the page, she fumed. Cass remembered her conversation with Professor McGonagall on the Knight Bus, the one about Harry Potter and Voldemort. _What if Voldemort was back? What if we can't defend ourselves? _Although Cass had heard many people denying that Voldemort was back (at the same time they were saying how Harry Potter was an attention-seeking brat), she found that she didn't believe them. On the other hand, Cass wasn't sure she believed that Voldemort _was _back. _I guess I just don't know what to believe…but, in any case, we should still learn to defend ourselves. _

Cass felt a familiar stinging behind her eyes, and suddenly, she wasn't in a classroom anymore.

_It was twilight, and the setting sun cast long shadows on the graveyard. A large cauldron sat on the grass, and boy was chained to a headstone. The boy was clad in red, his hair black, and his eyes green. Scratches and sweat covered his body, which shook—either in fear or exhaustion, the Seer didn't know._

_A balding, rat-like man stood before the cauldron, pouring ingredients in it. The man took a knife from his robes and slashed a cut in the boy's forearm, making him scream in pain. _

_The man flicked the knife towards the mouth of the cauldron, causing the potion inside in to change color and bubble wildly. The Seer could only watch in horror as a pale figure emerged from the cauldron, and red eyes filled her vision. _

Cass jerked back to the present, feeling distinctly sick to her stomach. Sarah was looking at her worriedly, a question on her face. Cass shook her head and forced a smile, mouthing, "I'm fine, just an upset stomach."

Umbridge—mentally, Cass had stopped adding the respectful 'Professor' before her name—squinted at Cass, probably wondering why she hadn't turned her page in a while. Cass quickly flipped it, her head whirring with what she had Seen. She was plenty confused by all of it but knew one thing; any doubts she had about Voldemort being back were gone, only to be replaced with fear.

OoOoO


	7. Wings and a Red-Haired Girl

**DISCLAIMER: I solemnly swear that I don't own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters, but I will do my best to take the great JKR's universe and make a mess of it with plots and OCs that I **_**do**_** own. **

**Mischief Managed**

**A/N: Hellooo! Thanks for reading and please enjoy! Reviews are always welcome, flames are not. Sorry this chapter took a while to post (at least, by my standards). I wanted to make it extra long because, guess what? The last chapter got this story over 1000 hits! That is amazing to me, absolutely amazing! Thank you so much! **

OoOoO

Cass walked to dinner with Sarah and Brooke in silence. The three girls had walked around the castle after Defense, wanting to get to know their way around the huge school. Brooke had been _sure_ they were going to find some secret passageway, but they only managed to find that Mr. Filch was _not_ a nice man, and most certainly did _not _tolerate 'disrespectful, lying brats that thought they were better than everyone else.' Sarah and Brooke had been terribly affronted by the caretaker's behavior, but Cass found herself very sorry for the man for reasons she couldn't quite articulate, even to herself. Cass felt that he lacked something, something that _should _have been his, but wasn't…

Cass's silence, however, did not come from the caretaker's rudeness, but rather what had happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The pale, red-eyed man sent shivers down her spine and spikes of fear deep into her chest. She was confused by the vision as well; who was the other man, the one that looked like a rat? But most of all, Cass felt extreme pity for Harry Potter. All afternoon Cass held felt sick to her stomach at the_ thought_ of Voldemort, but the poor boy had to _live _through that.

So, it was a very sullen-looking Cass that arrived at dinner. She sat down with Brooke at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the concerned looks her friend gave her. It was only when Jackson and his gelled hair went swaggering over to an angry Pauline, only to be shrieked at by the girl, did Cass loosen up and laugh alongside Brooke. The murderous look Jackson shot Cass in response made her laugh even harder, but when he _winked at her_—the arrogant, smirking git—she had half the thought to throttle him. Brooke had just cackled, making Cass want to throttle _her. _

That night in the Gryffindor common room, the two red-haired boys, which Cass later found out to be the Weasley twins, were advertising weird products called Puking Pastilles and Nosebleed…somethings. Cass had rolled her eyes at them when they asked her if she wanted to test them out.

"Of course, we'll pay you," Fred said.

"It's a perfect way to make a couple of Knuts—" George started.

"—or maybe even some Sickles, all with very little—" Fred continued.

"—risk to you!" George said.

"So, what do you say?" they finished together.

Cass lifted her eyebrows at the strange way the twins spoke, but still shook her head. "I have no interest in being a guinea pig." Cass smacked one of the strange treats out of Brooke's hands. "Don't eat that, come on." She dragged a protesting Brooke away from the twins, who clutched their chests in mock heartbreak.

"What was that for? I could've made some money!" Brooke complained.

"If you ate that, you would've been puking slugs!" Cass exclaimed.

Brooke rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Yeah, right. You're just—" Brooke cut off as Euan retched, apparently having eaten one of Fred's and George's strange treats. Cass watched Brooke's eyes go wide as a slimy, green slug flew out of the boy's mouth.

It was then that Hermione came striding angrily over to Fred and George, who were calmly picking up the slugs and examining them. Cass didn't see the twins get shrieked at by Hermione, however, because Brooke had grabbed her hand and Cass was forced to run with her up to their dormitory.

Brooke slammed the door to their bedroom, finally letting go of Cass. She turned to Cass, her mouth working but no sound coming out. Cass shot a glance around the room; Pauline wasn't there.

"What?" Cass knew exactly what, but she wanted Brooke to say it. She had decided to tell her friends about her gift. Afterall, they would most likely find out anyway, so Cass thought telling them was the best course of action.

At last, Brooke found her voice. "How—how? Was that just a lucky guess…but the Transfiguration thing? You _knew_ about the matches, now the slugs? What? I—no... understand?"

Cass giggled. "Brooke, there is a thing called grammar, and that's not it."

Brooke glared at Cass. "You know what I mean. How'd you know?"

"Um…I'm not sure how to say it," Cass said awkwardly.

"Well, try," Brooke said curtly.

"Okay…" Cass took a deep breath. "_IcanSeethefuture!" _

Brooke's eyes widened. "Really?" Cass nodded. "Absolutely wicked! That's amazing!"

Cass felt immediate relief; she had been worried that her friend my think it weird. "So, you don't think its…strange?"

"No, of course not! I—"

The door to the room opened and Pauline walked in, red hair braided back tightly. She saw Brooke and Cass and muttered, "Losers."

Brooke whipped her head to look at Pauline. "What's your problem?" Brooke huffed.

Pauline's eyes narrowed and she turned her head sharply. But Cass wasn't there anymore.

_A girl with strawberry blonde hair stood angrily from a curtained four-poster bed. The girl launched herself across the room, towards another girl with box-braids. _

_The first girl was yelling at the second. After a few seconds, the girl in braids slapped the other one, not hard, but enough to leave a red mark. _

Cass's hand flew on its own accord to grab Brooke's cuff. Brooke just spun around and put her hands on her hips. She made a wild gesture at Pauline, whose back was turned. Cass shook her head firmly.

"Does anyone need to use the loo? 'Cause I'm going to shower," Cass announced. Brooke shook her head and Pauline didn't do anything, which Cass took as permission to use the bathroom.

Cass flipped open her trunk and dug out sweatpants and a T-shirt. Cass then walked to the loo and turned on the shower, locking the door behind her.

While she waited for the water to heat, Cass took her hair down from her ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulders in waves. When steam started to cloud the mirror, Cass jumped in the hot shower.

As she washed herself, Cass reflected on her day. Meeting Janelle, transfiguring matches, meeting a talking toad (a very _rude _talking toad), having disturbing scenes forcefully played in her head…a pretty busy day. Despite its bad parts, Cass was happy with her day. And very excited about the many more to come.

OoOoO

Cass waited outside the Charms classroom with Brooke in a queue. While she and Brooke were the only Gryffindors there so early (five minutes before class) a whole crowd of Ravenclaws was already there.

Three sets of clonking footsteps made Cass glance up from a piece of parchment that she had been drawing on; she had been trying to imitate the style of art used with many of the paintings in Hogwarts but couldn't get it _quite _right.

Cass and Brooke groaned in unison. It was the three arrogant boys from yesterday; Jackson, Nick, and Euan. _Here I was hoping they thought class was beneath them, _Cass thought.

The three Gryffindor boys walked over to Cass and Brooke in what they probably thought to be a cool, confident manner, but what really looked like a bunch of walrus's flopping.

"Hello, ladies. How are you this fine morning?" said Jackson.

Nick said, "Obviously you got your beauty sleep. Well, maybe not you, blondie."

Cass narrowed her eyes in anger. "Obviously you _didn't_…or maybe you did and there is just no helping it." Brooke seemed hurt, and her pained expression only fueled Cass's next words. "Don't be rude to my friend, _Nick_."

Cass didn't get a chance to say anything more as the door to the Charms classroom opened and a tiny wizard stepped out. He said in a squeaky voice, "Come in, everyone!"

Cass turned her nose up at Nick and the other goons and walked over through the door. As she passed the teacher, he did a sudden double take and his eyes widened in an almost comedic, cartoonish way.

_A red-haired girl sat in a desk. She had startling green eyes and a beautiful, angelic face. She had her hand in the air, eager to answer questions. A ting wizard smiled at her warmly and called on her. _

Cass finished her step rather hardly as she returned to her surroundings. Cass schooled her face into polite questioning at the tiny wizard's wide eyes and asked, "Sir?" Why did he look at her like that?

The wizard shook his head. "I apologize. You just reminded me of someone…But, of course, that is quite impossible." Cass nodded, but her mind was raging; why did so many people seem to think that? Professor McGonagall, those people on the platform, even _Harry Potter. _Jeez, wizards don't seem to know that sometimes people can look like other people. Is the wizarding community that small?

Cass chose a seat next to Brooke, near the front. From her schoolbag, she dug out some parchment, a Self-Inking Quill, and her silver wand. To her right, a frizzy, golden-haired Ravenclaw girl with bangs sat down. Cass gave her a small smile, which she returned. The Charms classroom felt very airy, filled with light from windows depicting the picturesque landscape around the castle. Cass loved it.

The tiny professor stood before the classroom (he had to stand on a pile of books to be seen) and announced, "Hello, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws! Good morning, I'm Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher."

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick," came a chorus of first-years.

Professor Flitwick beamed. "Excellent! Now, for roll call…" Professor Flitwick called out all the students' names in the class. Through this, Cass found out that that the Ravenclaw girl next to her was named Cyrene Lyonslatter.

With a final "…Smith, Jackson!" and a grumpy "Here!" the lesson began.

"Charms usually last longer that other spells, meaning most must be maintained through concentration on the caster's part. Take the _Lumos _Charm, for example. One must continue to concentrate on producing light if they are to sustain the charm," lectured the professor. Throughout the lesson, Cass took immaculate notes on charms and what they are. After about an hour of theory, Professor Flitwick had them practice a move with their wands called the 'Swish and Flick'. He told the first-years that this movement, coupled with the proper incantation, would make objects fly and was aptly named the Levitation Charm. They wouldn't be learning the incantation for a while, but it was still good practice and allowed them to work on their form.

Cass rather enjoyed Charms. Although there was a lot of work to be done, the classroom was filled with the buzzing of multiple conversations. She struck up conversation with the Ravenclaw girl, Cyrene.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?" Cass asked, flicking her wand.

Cyrene held her pointer finger up as she scribbled something down on her parchment. "I am enjoying it very much, thank you for asking," she replied without looking up.

Out of the corner of Cass's eye, Brooke was making a face that was mockingly polite. Ignoring this, Cass said, "I think it is absolutely brilliant…I'm Muggle-raised, so magic is still very new to me."

Cyrene turned to look at Cass. "Muggle-raised? Not Muggle-born?" she asked. _Doesn't miss a thing_, Cass remarked.

"Well, I was—I was abandoned at a fire station and an older couple took me in…I don't know if my parents—my _birth_ parents—were magical or not," Cass said awkwardly, mentally berating herself. _Why couldn't you have just kept it simple and said 'Muggle-born'? No, you have to spill your life out to everyone._

Cyrene gazed at Cass with sympathy, but only for a second. After that second, she said, "Well, I have to agree; magic is wondrous."

"Yeah, totally wicked," Brooke added with a jab of her wand. Sparks flew wildly from it in all different colors and Brooke gave a loud, "Eek!"

"One should never wave their wand willy-nilly, as it may have disastrous consequences," Cyrene recited from her notes, but she seemed almost fascinated with the sparks. "I wonder what specific action caused this…would one be able to recreate it?" she muttered to herself, looking over her parchment with furrowed brows.

"Brooke, honestly, don't shriek like that. It's a couple of sparks—look, now it has stopped," Cass said, biting back her laughter as Brooke stared at her wand with an open-mouth. Suddenly, Brooke's eyes narrowed.

"You—you Saw this coming, didn't you?" she whispered furiously, gesturing at her wand.

Cass shook her head. "I'm not sure it works like that…actually, I'm not sure how it works at all. But I didn't See anything." Brooke just scoffed and went back to work with her 'Swish and Flick'. Cass noted with amusement that Brooke was being a lot gentler and not jabbing her wand anymore.

OoOoO

Cass and Brooke walked through the large oak doors that led outside the castle, Rose and Janelle with them. Today, Rose had beach-blond hair and grey eyes. Afternoon sunlight was in Cass's eyes and a warm breeze made her hair dance and tickle her face.

The first-years walked towards the greenhouses. They were clad in outdoor boots and dragonhide gloves. As they walked to Herbology, Cass looked around the grounds with wide eyes, trying to imprint the image into her brain. It was absolutely _beautiful_ with tall, swaying trees, well-manicured lawns, and the enormous castle behind them. _Straight out of a fairy tale, _Cass thought.

A dumpy, little, and slightly graying witch greeted Cass and her friends in one of the greenhouses. Cass breathed in a deep, earthen smell that reminded her of rain showers and gardening with Grandma Joyce.

Strange-looking plants filled the glass-covered room. Plants much too big, plants much too small. Plants with spikes, cracks oozing slime, wrinkles, and more. Some plants didn't even look like plants at all, which made Cass want to investigate them immediately. She resisted the urge and stood beside Janelle and Rose at a table holding spiky bushes.

"Welcome to Herbology, first-years. Good afternoon!" shouted the professor.

"Good afternoon, Professor Sprout!" the first-years replied. Cass observed that the loudest and most enthusiastic replies came from Hufflepuffs.

"Well, it seems introductions are irrelevant, seeing as how you all know me," Professor Sprout chuckled. "That means we can get straight to business. Right, so Herbology is the study of plants, magical and mundane alike. This year, we'll deal with both, as well as some basic spells used for proper maintenance of a plant.

"Now, Herbology is messy, I'm not going to lie. You'll get dirt under your fingernails—even with the gloves," said Professor Sprout. She went on to explain the year's curriculum using fascinating words (at least to Cass) like Puffapods and Tenetacula. Most of these Cass didn't understand, but she took careful notes on everything. After doing that, Professor Sprout took everyone on a little tour around the first-year greenhouse, pointing out absolutely _wicked-_looking plants and curious gardening tools Cass had never seen before. She described methods on taking care of dragonhide gloves, safety precautions when dealing with an unknown plant ("Whatever you do, _don't _eat anything!"), and all sorts of other useful information. At the end of the lesson, Cass _did _have dirt on her brow, but it wasn't as bad as Bello having dirt in his _ears _of all places.

"Well, have a great afternoon, everybody!" Professor Sprout dismissed the class. Cass gathered her things and placed her gloves into their small wooden box delicately. She, Rose, Brooke, and Janelle walked back up to the castle together. Bello had to stay behind while Professor Sprout gave cleaned his ears from the gunk—which had turned out to be deadly Aconite pus. The professor seemed exasperated, telling Bello that she had a fifth-year class immediately after this and how he had better not do it again.

"Poor Bello, I wonder how he did that?" said Janelle.

Brooke snorted, "Only Bello _could _do that. You know, there was this one time where he accidentally got stuck on the ceiling fan?" Cass and Rose immediately burst into hysterics and even Janelle laughed. "It was the biggest fiasco _ever_."

The four girls talked all the way up to the oak doors before Cass and Brooke broke off, heading up to the Gryffindor Tower for a quick wash-off. They had the rest of the afternoon off, so Cass and Brooke took their time.

"I really liked that class," Cass said.

"You really like every class," Brooke replied, mimicking taking notes with an overly dazed expression on her face.

Cass narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Better than being afraid of a couple sparks," she retorted.

Brooke harrumphed and grumbled to the Fat Lady's portrait, "Quiritus Mimbletonia."

Up in the girls' dormitory, Cass unloaded her backpack while Brooke showered. Upon making sure she had her books for tomorrow, Cass took out a Color-Changing Quill and some spare parchment and began to doodle idly while staring out the window. Her mind wandered for a while, going from the vision of the red-haired girl to wishing she was back outside to…Voldemort. The vision from Umbridge's class came to the forefront of Cass's mind and she shuddered involuntarily. She looked down at her paper and the snake-like face of Voldemort stared up at her amidst other, random doodles.

The door to the loo opened and Brooke stepped out. Cass hastily shoved the paper into her bookbag and tried to school her face into boredom. "Took you long enough," she said.

Brooke rolled her eyes and replied, "Whatever."

OoOoO

At midnight, all the first-years headed out to Astronomy. Cass had to literally drag Brooke out of bed, earning her a hard glare and some flying sparks from Brooke's wand, which was gripped tightly in her hand. Pauline had already been up and was reading by the window. When she saw Cass getting Brooke up, she had smirked, which Cass had promptly returned. _Why is she like this?_ Cass had thought.

Now, up in the tall Astronomy tower, a witch with a red lantern and a pointy red hat greeted the first-years. Cass set her telescope down, panting. It had been a long walk up and carrying an such an awkward load had only made it worse.

Around Cass were all the first-years, grouped by the colors of their robe liners. The sky was open to them and Cass gazed at it in wonder, taking in the stars, the beautiful stars. A voice interrupted her gazing.

"Hello, first-years. My name is Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher," said Professor Sinistra.

"Hello, Professor," Cass replied. A few students echoed her, but most were rubbing their eyes tiredly.

Professor Sinistra chuckled. "Please, don't be too enthusiastic. Now, you're all here to study the night sky. Usually, Astronomy classes are split up between houses, but this year's class is on the smaller side, so it's been combined.

"Astronomy comes from the Greek word _astronomos_, meaning star-arranging. In this class, you will study celestial objects such as planets, stars, asteroids, comets, moons, dwarf planets, and distant galaxies. We'll start with galaxies, as they are very easily spotted due to their shapes. More importantly, in my excellent opinion, they are quite beautiful," the professor paused to let some students (including Cass) write down notes. It was mostly Ravenclaw students, but Cass saw Sarah and Janelle taking notes, too.

"Now, who knows how many types of galaxies there are?" asked Professor Sinistra. Immediately, several Ravenclaws raised their hands anxiously. Cass didn't know the answer, so she just wrote down in her notes 'Types of Galaxies'.

Professor Sinistra had picked on Cyrene, the girl from Charms. "There are four types of galaxies: elliptical, peculiar, irregular, and spiral," Cyrene answered. Cass scribbled down the names rapidly, as the Ravenclaw had talked somewhat quickly.

Professor Sinistra nodded. "Very good. Does anyone know the closest galaxy to ours?"

Once again, the Ravenclaws raised their hands, but, this time, so did Cass. Professor Sinistra pointed to Cass. Smiling, Cass answered, "The Andromeda Galaxy."

Professor Sinistra nodded and explained all the different types of galaxies and what their shapes were. She described galaxy clusters, nebula disks, and many other things. At the end of class, the first-years were told to look through their telescopes (which were magically enhanced) to see if they could spot any galaxies. Bello said he had seen one almost immediately after the instructions were given and very enthusiastically pointed it out to Professor Sinistra.

"Mr…."

"Glaucuson, ma'am."

"Mr. Glaucuson, that is a speck of dust on your telescope lens."

Brooke sniggered loudly, making Cass jab her elbow into her side. Princess Sasha had said, "What a _loser._" This made Brooke's eyes narrow dangerously and Cass, Janelle, and Rose all grabbed her robes to stop her from walking over to Sasha. Luckily, Sarah stomped on Sasha's foot 'accidentally', so Brooke calmed down. _It's funny how she sniggers at Bello, but then gets mad at Sasha, _Cass remarked to herself, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

"Okay, class, that concludes our lesson. Please have a good night," Professor Sinistra said hastily, probably wanting to avoid any confrontations. As Cass put away her things, her eyes smarted in what was becoming a very familiar way.

_A boy with brown eyes and light brown hair tripped over an outstretched foot and knocked over a whole row of telescopes before stumbling over a low wall and falling, falling, falling…_

"BELLO!" Cass screamed, making Brooke jump about a foot in the air. Cass's head whipped around and she saw Sasha stick her foot out…

Almost all of the first-years could only watched in horror as Bello tripped and made the telescopes fall over like dominoes before sailing backwards over the wall into thin air. Cass, however, had started running the moment she saw Sasha's foot and shoved the aforementioned Princess out of the way to grab Bello's foot that was rapidly disappearing over the wall.

Cass grunted at the weight as Bello whimpered. "Help me," she choked out, struggling to hold on to her friend. Hands reached over beside Cass and grabbed onto Bello. With a big heave, he was back over the wall, safe and sound.

Professor Sinistra, it turned out, had been just behind Cass after the telescopes had been knocked over. It was her that had aided Cass in hauling Bello back onto the tower, away from certain death. Cass looked around wildly for Sasha, wanting to scream at the witch for almost killing her friend. But, somehow, the Slytherin had managed to get to the other side of the tower, looking pale, but not necessarily regretful. _Why that little…_

"Mr. Glaucuson are you okay?" asked Professor Sinistra as she wiped sweat from her brow. Bello gave a sharp nod, panting hard.

The older witch turned to Cass. "And you?"

Cass managed to reply, "I'm fine, just shaken up a bit."

"Good. Now, I must ask…how did you know?"

Cass panicked. _Uh oh…_ "I, uh—you see, er…good instincts?" Cass said awkwardly. As Professor Sinistra raised her eyebrows is a way that said, 'you expect me to believe that?', she sighed. "I—I Saw it."

There were several gasps from the onlookers. But Brooke, bless her, suddenly caused a great distraction. "BELLO!" she shrieked and flung herself at the boy. "Merlin's pants, are you okay? What happened? You just fell and the telescopes and the wall…_you went over the wall! You almost died!" _The poor boy was fiercely embraced by Brooke. Discreetly, Cass mouthed, "You're overdoing it."

"Gerroff me!" came a muffled voice. Brooke let go, winking at Cass from behind Bello's back.

Professor Sinistra stood and said, "Everyone clear out, now! Anyone still out here by the count of three will lose fifty points from their house!" Like the switch of a light, the first-years cleared out. Sarah, Janelle, and Rose hesitated, but went out with the rest. Only Brooke, Cass, and Bello remained with Professor Sinistra.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You, Miss McGarther, right?" Cass nodded. "You…Saw…Mr. Glaucuson falling _before_ he actually did?" Cass nodded again. "Hogwarts hasn't had a Seer in a long time, and never one so young. Has anything like this happened before?" Cass nodded once more, sharing a glance with Brooke. _So much for not drawing attention to myself. _

"Cass…thank you so much. I would have," Bello paused, gulping. "I would have _died _if it weren't for you." Cass smiled at him and nodded her head.

"Yes, thank you, Miss McGarther. I believe a reward is in order…thirty points to Gryffindor." Cass and Brooke shared excited smiles; that was more points than they had ever received combined. "Now, I must ask Mr. Glaucuson about exactly what happened, so you may head back to your dormitories."

Brooke and Cass got up, but before they left, Cass said, "Professor, I saw Sasha stick her foot out to trip Bello." Brooke inhaled sharply and her nostrils flared.

Professor Sinistra looked thoughtful. "Be that as it may, Miss Ricardo was on the other side of the tower by the time I fully took stock of everyone's location. I'll investigate it, but there isn't much I can do if she claims innocence, because she _was_ far away from Mr. Glaucuson from what I saw." Cass was about to protest but thought better of it and followed Brooke out of the tower. Cass's head was starting to hurt badly. _Must be from all the visions today_, Cass concluded, recalling the vision from earlier about the red-haired girl. It was then when it clicked. Maybe Professor Flitwick wasn't talking about her resemblance to Harry Potter when he said she looked familiar, maybe he was talking about her resemblance to her parents! What if her parents had gone to Hogwarts?

That thought put a bounce in her step. Maybe she could find her birth parents after all. Once she did, she could demand from them why _exactly _they left her at the bloody _fire station._ But, more than that, she would finally meet the people that brought her into this world…she could finally find out if they loved her…or if they didn't. Cass wouldn't be left wondering about her parents any longer. _You're getting ahead of yourself, Cass_, she told herself. _No use hoping over something on…what exactly? A tiny, two second vision? Honestly…_

OoOoO

The next morning, Cass got to experience first-hand the famous Hogwarts rumor-mill. The whole school was abuzz with the news of last night's Astronomy class. _Great…_

On their way down to breakfast, Cass and Brooke were stopped by Rose and Janelle.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a Seer?" demanded Rose, sporting pink hair and violet eyes, the same combination from when Cass had first met her. _Had that really only been a couple days ago? _Cass thought.

"Well…I was going to tell you guys this weekend," Cass replied.

Janelle accepted that. "I think it was brilliant how you saved Bello, Cass," she said.

Rose nodded in agreement. "Yeah, thanks a lot. We're really grateful, honestly. I just can't believe you're a _Seer. _I didn't know it was possible to be such a young Seer."

Cass cast her eyes downward. "It's not normal…Professor McGonagall seemed really surprised when I told her about it," she murmured quietly.

Rose seemed surprised but didn't get to say anything as they just entered the Great Hall. Whispers picked up and Cass sighed. _Great, just great._

"Come on, Cass. It's fine, it'll probably only last a day… at least no one thinks you're an attention-seeking brat…" Brooke said in what she must have thought to be comforting. Cass only felt anger; it was then that she realized that while everyone was making fun of Harry for lying about Voldemort, he was telling the truth. How hadn't she realized that before? _And what, exactly, can you do about it?_ Cass groaned in frustration; why had _she _been given this gift?

"I don't think he is an attention-seeking brat," she said curtly.

Brooke looked flustered and stammered, "I-I don't either, of course. Um, let's sit down." She then muttered to herself, "Merlin, you try to comfort a girl." Cass ignored that, grabbed some toast, and began buttering it.

In the process of eating her food, Cass suddenly sighed and looked up to see Nick, Jackson, and Euan striding towards them arrogantly. _Just what I need…_

"Hello, Miss Cassandra," said Nick, pointedly ignoring Brooke.

"Hello pr—I mean, _Nick," _Cass replied icily, annoyed that he was ignoring Brooke. Brooke just choked back a laugh at Cass's greeting, but Cass mentally scolded herself. _Really, almost using profanity? You're not a sailor._

Jackson said, "So, you can See the future, huh? Pretty useful…could you cheat on tests?" Cass was taken aback for a second at the sudden question but rolled her eyes just the same before turning her back and ignoring the boys.

"Miss Cassandra…" Euan started, before Brooke told him off for being 'an annoying boy with too much hair gel in his too-hard hair.' Cass giggled at that, she just had to.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you about the attention-seeking brat thing. I just think it is unfair to Potter," Cass apologized.

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean to be snappy," Brooke said. "Now, can we talk about almost calling Nick a pri—"

"Brooke! Don't say it!"

"What? You almost did!"

"Well _I _was never going to actually say it, I was just trying to make a point," Cass said dismissively, hoping Brooke was going to believe her.

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, O' Great Seer," Brooke replied, grinning. _Yeah, she saw right through that one_, Cass thought.

Just then, two older Gryffindor girls walked towards Cass and Brooke. _Oh no… _

"Hi, you remember us, right? I'm Lavender, remember?" The dirty-blond and curly-haired girl said.

"Um…" Cass said.

"Of course you do! So, me and Parvarti—"

"—Parvarti and I," Parvarti corrected.

"Come on, Parv. Anyway, _Parvarti and I_ are very, very enthusiastic about fortune-telling. I mean, we're Professor Trelawney's—she's the Divination teacher—absolute _favorites_," Lavender continued excitedly, oblivious to Brooke's silent laughter. "So, we were just wondering if you would like to hang out with us? We could talk about boys, the future, nails, hair, makeup, boys, and the future! What'd you say?"

"Um…yeah, maybe some time," Cass said, not having the heart to tell them no.

Parvarti and Lavender beamed. "Yay! If you need anything, please don't hesitate to tell us!" Parvarti said. The two walked away, giggling.

Brooke just couldn't take it any longer and burst out laughing, spewing milk all over her robes. "I can't…Merlin…that was _funny_!"

Cass giggled a bit, too. "I just couldn't say no, Brooke. What have I gotten myself into?" Brooke just laughed harder.

OoOoO

"Miss McGarther, I need to speak with you," said Professor McGonagall after Transfiguration had ended. Cass felt a spike a nervousness shoot down her chest; had she done something wrong?

Brooke, Janelle, Rose, and Bello all looked at her questioningly. Cass just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. They all left, so Cass walked over to Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Miss McGarther, I must first say how grateful I am that you saved Mr. Glaucuson's life. His parents have owled me and told me to personally express their gratitude. That was very…Gryffindorish of you," said the professor, even giving Cass a rare smile. "Although Professor Sinistra has already given you thirty points, I will award ten more for a quick response."

Cass smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are quite welcome," replied Professor McGonagall. Her face grew more serious. "Miss McGarther, I urge you to be careful. You have a gift. Use it for good, but do not flout it. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am, I promise," said Cass. Professor McGonagall nodded her head in dismissal, so Cass slung her backpack across her shoulder and walked out of the classroom.

Outside, Rose, Janelle, Brooke, and Bello waited for her. When she walked out, Brooke asked, "So, what'd ya do?"

"I—hey, why did you automatically think I did something wrong?" Cass asked, huffing.

"Well?"

Cass sighed and said, "I didn't do anything wrong, thank you very much. In fact, Professor McGonagall gave Gryffindor points for…well, you know."

"Oh, that's great!" Janelle said.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go to the loo, meet you guys at lunch?" Cass said.

Rose nodded. "Mhm."

Cass headed towards the bathroom on that floor, her mind spinning. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant by her warning? Of _course_ Cass wouldn't flout it, so why had the professor thought she needed to say something?

So engrossed in her thoughts, Cass gave a muffled shriek when she collided with something solid. Her backpack flew from her shoulders and landed with a thud on the ground, its contents spilling all over the floor.

"Oof! Sorry, I didn't see you!" said Cass hastily. She looked up to see Harry Potter rubbing his head. _His head? I didn't run into his head._

"No, er, it's my fault. Here, I'll go get your books," he said, rushing over to Cass's spilled school supplies.

"Um, thanks," said Cass awkwardly. Harry didn't seem to hear her; he was looking at a crumpled piece of paper on the ground.

"You…that's…" muttered Harry.

"Sorry?"

Harry looked at Cass, his green eyes filled with accusation. Cass stumbled back a bit, wondering what the heck he was so upset about. Then she saw what he was holding and paled; it was the drawing of Voldemort that she had shoved into her backpack last night. No wonder he was upset.

"It looks exactly like him. I described him to people, but this…you would have to see him to draw this," Harry said as he gripped the paper tightly.

"I _did _see him…I, um—it was a vision, you see," Cass stammered.

Harry calmed down. "Oh…_oh._"

"Yeah…Look, Pott—um Harry, I just want to say I'm sorry. That face makes me sick thinking about it, and I didn't even _live _through it, I only Saw it. And everyone calling you an attention-seeking brat who can't stand it when he isn't the center of attention…it's wrong. Just wrong. And I'm sorry," Cass said, wincing slightly at the awkwardness.

Harry nodded. "Sorry I freaked out. And thanks, it means…it means a lot." He picked up the rest of her books and handed them to her. "Oh, and good job saving that Hufflepuff last night. From what I heard it was pretty impressive."

Cass shoved all the books into her backpack. "Thanks. It was really just luck. Anyone could have done it."

The corners of Harry's lips tugged up slightly, for whatever reason. "Well, er…'bye," he said.

"'Bye."

Cass walked to the girl's loo and sat her bag in the sink. She rearranged the books inside it more neatly and took out the colorful piece of paper she had doodled on, the one with the face of a monster. Cass ripped it in half, then into quarters, before crumbling up the scraps and tossing it into the rubbish bin.

OoOoO

"Good afternoon, class. Today we will be reading chapters three through four, so if you could take out your books and some parchment for notes, please," said Umbridge sweetly, flashing a wide, poisonous smile.

Cass did as she was told, exchanging a glance with Sarah and Brooke. However, on her parchment was not notes on 'Theory of Common Jinxes' but rather some notes copied from her Potions book. Cass had heard the Potions teacher, Professor Snape, was very hard on students, so she wanted to be as prepared as possible for his class tomorrow.

After a few minutes of pretend reading from Cass's book and actual reading from her parchment, Professor Umbridge cleared her throat loudly.

"Now, class, I will ask you to show me your notes on chapters three and four, to make sure that you have fully comprehended the material," said the toad. She smiled wickedly at Cass, as if she knew Cass hadn't been taking notes. Cass just smiled back politely and grabbed a piece of parchment from behind her Potions notes, taking care to shove the Potions notes under her book discreetly. Cass had read up on chapters three and four and taken detailed notes beforehand. Seeing the future had its perks.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors formed a queue in front of Umbridge's desk and were handing their notes to her, who just barely glanced over them. When Cass gave hers to Umbridge she gave a satisfied 'hem'. That was before she actually _read _the notes and her smile vanished so rapidly that Cass very nearly laughed.

Umbridge took a lot longer reading Cass's notes than any other students' notes. Finally, she said, "So, Miss McGarther, it seems you have learned to write without even lifting your quill. Would you like to explain?" Cass blanched; she had forgotten about that part.

"Of course I haven't…Professor. I, um, already took notes on chapters three and four," Cass replied, deciding honesty was probably best in this circumstance, even with the toad.

"What have you been doing all class, then?"

"Rereading, ma'am." Okay, a little white lie won't hurt.

Umbridge narrowed her eyes but handed Cass's notes back to her. When she passed Sarah on her way back, Cass mimed wiping sweat off her brow, making the Slytherin silently laugh.

The rest of the class passed in silence as they took a short quiz on 'Theory of Common Jinxes'. While Umbridge had passed out the exam papers, Brooke pushed her tongue against her chin, mimicking a toad ribbiting. Sarah had sniggered loudly, earning her a sweet "Hem, hem" from the toad herself.

At the end of class, Cass was packing her things away when Princess Sasha walked up to her.

"Hello, Cassandra," she greeted in an imperious manner.

Cass narrowed her eyes angrily at the witch. "Do not presume to even speak to me, _Princess_. He could have _died _and you greet me like we're friends?" she whispered furiously at Sasha.

Sasha's eyes widened innocently. "I just wanted to say how absolutely _amazing_ that save was."

Cass rolled her eyes and stalked off, not trusting herself to remain civil towards the person that had tripped Bello. Maybe Sasha hadn't meant to make him fall, but she had still tripped him. Brooke jabbed her elbow into Sasha's side, hard, as she walked past her. Sasha just narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything.

Outside the classroom, Sarah ran up to Cass and Brooke. "Hey, I'm sorry about Sasha—"

"Don't you ever apologize for her. It was not your fault and I don't want to hear you say sorry for something that—like I said—was not your fault. Especially for something that _Princess _Sasha did," Cass interrupted firmly. Sarah nodded and her dark hair bounced.

"I just can't believe she would do that, I mean, he almost died! And then she greets you like nothing happened and acts innocent! Ugh!" Brooke said angrily.

"I know, I know. It's no use starting a fight, though," Cass replied. Sarah broke off from the group, heading towards the Slytherin common rooms. "See you at dinner, Sarah," Cass said.

"See you at dinner!"

Cass and Brooke walked back up to the Gryffindor Tower, talking about different ways to prove Sasha had tripped Bello. Although they couldn't come up with anything, the thought of proving Sasha guilty was enough to make them grin.

OoOoO

_A woman of color sat at a desk and was shrouded in darkness. She was muttering to herself in what seemed to be French. The room she was in was lit by a single flame hovering above her head. An ebony and intricately carved wand lay beside her right hand; a witch, she was a witch. _

_The darkness around the witch shifted, making its shape more defined. What seemed to be wings of the blackest black could be made out from the darkness. They seemed wrong; the product of dark and evil magic. _

_The hovering flame illuminated the witch's face, which was very beautiful. Suddenly, she looked up. Pitch black eyes bored into the dreamer's before a jolt of pain shot up the dreamer's body. _

Cass lurched awake only to find herself on the floor and wrapped tightly in her sheets; she must have fallen off the bed. From the other side of the room, Brooke gave a loud snore.

Cass gulped in breaths as her dream rapidly disappeared from her mind. She hastily withdrew a piece of parchment, a quill, and ink from her backpack before flicking the light on. Cass's hand flew across the paper on its own accord as she desperately tried to remember the dream. _It might be important! Why can't I remember it?_ she despaired.

The drawing on the page was half-formed and with shaky lines. If Cass looked at it from a certain angle, she could almost make out a pair of wings. _Like that's helpful_, she thought. Still, she stowed it away in her trunk for future reference.

"Bad dream?"

Cass jumped a foot in the air at Pauline's voice. "Yeah," she replied once she regained her composure.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it was pretty scary…"

"You woke me up."

Cass sighed. "I'm so very, very sorry," she said sarcastically.

"Apology accepted," Pauline said, either not recognizing or choosing to ignore the sarcasm. "Do you…do you want to talk about it, or can I go back to sleep?"

Cass sighed again. "I don't even remember it, really. Let's both just go back to sleep." Pauline must have agreed, for she said nothing else. Cass turned the light back off and drifted into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of wings and darkness.

OoOoO


	8. Potions and Pranks

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters. But Cass and the plot are **_**mine, mine, mine, mine, mine! **_**If only I could make some **_**money, money, money! **_

**A/N: Hellooo! Amazing reviews, check! Over 1,900 hits, check! *insert squeal of happiness here* Thanks, you guys are the best! But enough about me being overly excited, I have another chapter to write, and you have another chapter to read…I'm dropping some hints in this one. Or are they red herrings? Do they mean something or do they mean absolutely nothing? Mwuhahah. Feel free to guess in the review section!**

OoOoO

Cass nibbled on her toast and sipped her tea, holding back a yawn. After the nightmare last night (or rather, early this morning), she just hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. Instead, she had practiced her 'Swish and Flick' wand movement to take her mind off things. When she thought she had that down, she looked in her Charms textbook and practiced the incantation. Cass had been very pleased when the feather floated into the air slightly, not very high, but still levitating.

Now, however, she was regretting not trying harder to fall asleep. Cass's eyes ached and her head was throbbing slightly. Nevertheless, she quizzed Brooke on Potions ingredients in preparation of their first period.

"Okay, so for a Curing-Boils Potion, you need—"

"Cass! I'm sure it'll be fine, why are you worrying so much?" Brooke said in exasperation.

Cass shrugged. "Dunno, I just don't want to make a fool out of myself."

"You _won't _make a fool out of yourself. Merlin's pants, it's just Potions!" said Brooke. Cass hid her smile behind the lip of her cup. In truth, she didn't really care about quizzing Brooke; she just wanted to tick her off because it was funny.

Cass looked around the hall. Fortunately, Brooke had been right about the rumors of Cass being a Seer; barely anyone glanced at her today. Although Cass found it odd things blew over so quickly, she wasn't about to complain. Cass glanced at her plain, leather watch.

"Come on, Brooke, time to go," Cass said just as the girl was putting a big piece of bacon on her plate.

"But _Cass,_" Brooke complained.

Cass rolled her eyes and walked towards the entrance hall. Brooke snatched the bacon off her plate and ran after her, muttering, "Over-enthusiastic, little meanie."

OoOoO

Cass waited with Sarah outside the Potions classroom. Brooke had gone to use the loo, so Cass was right smack in the middle of a bunch of Slytherins. _She _didn't mind, but everyone—other than Sarah, of course—gave her sideways glances.

An ebony-haired boy with bright blue eyes walked up to Cass and Sarah. "Hello, Cassandra, right?" he asked.

Cass turned to face him. "It's just Cass, actually. Who are you?"

"Oh, this is Marcellus, Cass. I think you saw him on the first day, when you walked over to our table," Sarah introduced.

"Marcellus, huh? Anything to do with Mars? The god, I mean, not the planet," Cass asked, recognizing the name from one of the myths Grandpa Jimmy had always read to her. _Marcellus…wizards have weird names. _

Marcellus smiled. "Yeah, I'm surprised you recognized that, not many people do. The Romans believed Mars was a warrior, you know," he said in a slightly boastful tone. "But you can just call me Marcell."

"Okay, then, nice to meet you, Marcell."

"Pleasure's all mine, Cass," Marcell replied smoothly. Cass suppressed a smile; she didn't want the boy to get a big head thinking he was charming.

"Hey, I'm back," Brook said as she walked up to them. She took her backpack from Cass's arms; Cass had been holding it for her.

Marcell was now talking with another Slytherin boy, so Cass turned to Brooke and was about to say something when the door opened and a hook-nosed, greasy-haired wizard opened the door to the Potions classroom. The first-years all filed in and took their seats. Cass sat with Brooke, Sarah, and Marcell at one of the black-topped tables.

Cass gave a small shiver; it was quite chilly in the Potions classroom, as it was in the dungeons.

Professor Snape walked back to his desk while giving an intimidating glare to all the students. Thankfully, he didn't even look in Cass's direction, so she had avoided his glare.

"Abercrombie, Euan," the Potions master called out.

"Here," replied Euan.

Professor Snape continued roll call, not even looking up from his parchment while doing so. Finally, he got up from his desk and strode to the front of the class, looking imperiously at the students. His eyes were black and beady, and they made Cass think of dark tunnels and cold places. He had no trouble keeping the class quiet.

"You are here to learn subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Snape said in barely over a whisper. "Many of you dunderheads will not understand the beauty of this fine trade, but maybe some of you will be acceptable…" Brook had opened her mouth in anger over being called a dunderhead, but Cass stamped her foot down on Brooke's foot, hard. "…or maybe not," Professor Snape finished. He was glaring at Brooke and, for a second, his creepy eyes met Cass's green ones. His expression turned unreadable and he quickly looked away.

_A small girl with red hair ran down a hill, giggling, her head flying behind her like a flag. A young boy with black hair that fell in his eyes raced after her, hooting with laughter. The sounds of their joy rang through the Seer's head before…_

" Miss Miller!" Professor Snape said suddenly. "Tell me the three basic ingredients of a Pompion potion?" _It's that red-haired girl again! _Cass thought in recognition.

Brooke swallowed but replied, "Moondew, Wiggintree bark, and aconite!" Cass shot her a smirk that said, 'bet you're glad I made you study, now, huh?'

Professor Snape looked disappointed that Brooke had answered correctly, but said, "Acceptable answers, if a bit simplistic." _Simplistic? You asked for basic ingredients, of course Brooke was going to choose simple answers!_ Cass thought furiously.

"Smith! What is the difference between aconite and monkshood?" snapped the professor.

Jackson Smith, one of the Gryffindor boys, looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Um…the way they're spelled?" he said hopefully. Cass barely restrained herself from smacking her head with her hand in exasperation; really, that was all he could come up with? _Any _answer was better than that answer, even a simple 'I don't know.'

Professor Snape seemed to agree. "I won't tolerate any cheek in my class, Smith. A point from Gryffindor."

Brooke narrowed her eyes at Professor Snape, but Cass gave her a warning look and shook her head. Honestly, why was that girl so impulsive? Professor Snape instructed the class to brew a potion to cure boils, giving Cass a moment to think on her vision.

Who was this red-headed girl? Obviously someone important, she had two visions about her already! She _must _have gone to Hogwarts; how else could Cass be so recognizable to so many people? Although the thought scared her a bit, Cass resolved to ask Professor Snape if he knew her parents at the end of class. Maybe if she worded it _just_ right…

Cass snapped herself out of her thoughts and focused on her potion more (because Brooke, her partner, certainly wasn't). She carefully stirred the potion in her cauldron the exact amount of times her textbook had said. Cass counted out each porcupine quills individually and placed them gently in the liquid one by one. Cass also took meticulous notes, writing down some mistakes others had made and how to avoid them.

By the end of class, Cass's and Brooke's potion for curing boils received an Acceptable from Professor Snape. Although Cass was definitely not satisfied with that grade, it was the very highest of the Gryffindors (which said a lot about how much Professor Snape liked Cass's House). All of the Slytherins had gotten _at least _an Exceeds Expectations, though most of them got Outstandings. While inside Cass fumed about the unfair grade (Brooke fumed on the outside, much to Cass's disappointment), she kept a calm exterior so Professor Snape might listen to her.

Once it the class had started filing out, however, Cass's gut gave little squeezes of nervousness as she walked up to Professor Snape's desk and she almost backed out. _What kind of pansy are you? It's not like he's going to hurt you, for goodness sake, _Cass thought as she steeled herself.

"Professor Snape, sir?" Cass asked awkwardly, as the Potions Master was staring at a piece of paper determinedly.

"What?" Professor Snape snapped, not taking his eyes from his parchment.

Cass shoved down her nerves and said, if a little quickly, "Well, sir, it seemed that you recognized me…you see, I had this v—" Cass cut herself off; did she really want to tell the mean professor that she had seen his younger self running down a hill with some girl? Cass had a feeling that wouldn't go over well. "I was just wondering if you knew anyone that looked like me, sir. Like my parents. I—I'm looking for them." Why had she done this? There were a million other ways, why ask the teacher _everyone _hated?

Professor Snape looked up sharply. Some emotion flashed in his eyes, but Cass couldn't read it. "Who do you think I am, girl? A genealogy?" he demanded. Despite his hostile tone, Professor Snape looked…scared? No, surprised—nervous. He gave very little reaction—just a slight narrowing of the eyes—but Cass could tell nonetheless.

Cass put on a façade of contrition, but inside she was thinking, hard. Who, _exactly, _were her parents—no, her parents were Grandma and Grandpa. Who were her _biological _parents? And why did Professor Snape react like that? Instead of asking any of these questions, Cass said, "I'm sorry, I just thought…I have no where to begin looking for them, so asking people that—that might recognize me through them, just to…just to start, I thought it would be a good idea." That was all the apology he was going to get. Cass wasn't about to grovel to Professor Snape, especially not when he had snapped at her.

Professor Snape curled his lip, but Cass saw right through it to the nervousness he was hiding—or trying to. "Don't waste my time with _stupid_ questions, girl," he growled.

Cass had half the thought to say, 'Okay, then, so can we talk about my grade then?' but decided it probably wouldn't turn out very well. Luckily, she didn't have to say anything else, for Professor Snape turned back to his parchment and flicked his wrist sharply at the open door, making it bang against the wall loudly. _Honestly, was that really necessary? The door was already open, for goodness sake, _Cass thought with an inner eye roll.

A couple meters outside the class, Brooke waited impatiently. "What were you talking about with him?" she asked as they headed to lunch.

"I talked to Professor Snape about our grade because I thought it was completely unfair," Cass lied, not wanting to explain the real reason to her friend. It just felt too personal to Cass.

"I _know_! Our potion was the absolute best. Stupid, prejudiced git!" Brooke grumbled. "But why didn't you ask me to join you?"

Cass shrugged. "He didn't really seem to like you, did he? I wanted to give our grade the best chance."

"Did Snape change it?"

"No," Cass sighed. She was starting to feel a little guilty about lying to Brooke. Thankfully, Brooke didn't ask Cass any more questions and went into a rant about how _hard _they had worked on their potion, how it was the _best _of the whole class, and how Cass and Brooke _deserved _an Outstanding. Cass thought it was a bit too much (Brooke had barely helped; Cass should be the one upset) but she agreed in all the right intervals and mumbled a couple of responses. Her mind was really focused on one thing: her birth parents.

What had started as simple curiosity and the want for a bit of closure was quickly turning into a need for the truth. Cass just _had _to know what had gotten Professor Snape so worked up. She _had _to know why Professor McGonagall looked at her sadly from time to time. _Maybe it was just wizards not realizing that people can look similar,_ Cass mused occasionally. _But, then again, I have to know whether it is just a coincidence or if my parents _actually_ went to Hogwarts. _

When Cass and Brooke arrived in the Great Hall for lunch, Cass felt a vigor to find out who her parents were. _The library sounds like a good place for a genealogy_, Cass thought.

OoOoO

Severus Snape snarled the password to the Headmaster's office, 'Cockroach Cluster', and whisked up the stone steps. Without even bothering to knock, Snape strode angrily into the room.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Snape demanded to a politely smiling Dumbledore.

At his words, Dumbledore's smile slipped and was replaced by furrowed white eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about."

"Why didn't you tell me that she was that powerful of a Seer?"

Dumbledore didn't have to ask who. "Severus, what do you mean?"

"I mean that she just asked me if I knew her parents, Headmaster, that's what I mean," Snape snapped.

Dumbledore looked taken aback and sat in pensive silence for a while. Finally, he said, "I didn't know she could sense the past, Severus. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, though. She may sense you knew her parents, but she can't See—"

"Pardon me, Headmaster. I believe she did See something," Snape interrupted.

"Then, please, explain to me what happened," Dumbledore said quietly. Snape went on to explain how the girl had stayed after class, how she almost said 'vision', and how she had asked Professor Snape about her parents. Dumbledore listened carefully and looked very worried by the end of Snape's tale.

"Headmaster, if she finds out the truth…we can't let the Dark Lord know about her. And I—I can't fail…I can't fail…Potter would believe himself allowed to do however he pleases, I won't stand for it," Snape finished quickly to cover up his stuttering.

"I know, Severus, I know. Voldemort cannot know…_they_ cannot know."

OoOoO

Cass jumped out of bed excitedly. It was the weekend! This meant she could explore the grounds, hang out with her new friends, and get to know Hogwarts better. She hurriedly went through her morning routine, then sat drawing galaxies and stars while Brooke got ready. The two girls were out the door before Pauline could say, "Losers."

On the way to the Great Hall, Brooke and Cass met up with Rose, Bello, and Janelle.

"Uh…hi, Cass. How—you sleep—doing—uh, great?" Bello asked with much embarrassment.

Cass didn't skip a beat at his poor delivery, though. "I slept great and I'm doing wonderfully, thank you so much, Bello," she said as warmly as she could, hoping to diffuse the awkwardness. Bello had been like this since the whole Astronomy debacle.

Rose, whose hair was red today, smacked her head in frustration at Bello's ungainliness. Brooke laughed as silently as she could (which wasn't very silent at all).

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. Let's go to breakfast," Janelle said to take the focus off Bello. Cass shot her a grateful look; she didn't like making Bello uncomfortable, even if it wasn't her fault.

The rest of the walk, Janelle and Cass forced conversation about _anything_ while Bello trailed behind and Brooke and Rose were stuck in between, looking uncomfortable.

Outside the Great Hall, the whole Slytherin House filed in as one group. Sarah, along with Marcell, were towards the back of the group and both waved at Cass, who waved back with a grin.

Cass and her friends walked through the door and into the Great Hall. Rose, Janelle, and Bello walked over to the Hufflepuff table while Brooke and Cass walked to the Gryffindor table.

As Cass bit into her toast, Brooke whispered, "Cass, you know those older Gryffindors, uh…what are their names? Fred and George?"

Confused, Cas nodded. You couldn't go anywhere in Hogwarts without hearing of the prankster twins at some point.

"Well, um, don't look now, but they're grinning at us. Evilly," Brooke said tightly. "Cass, remember how you wouldn't try their Puking Pastilles? How you dragged me away, too? What if they're getting back at us?"

The room flickered and Cass's eyes smarted painfully.

_Hands reached for a jar of red jelly. Upon contact with the jar, it exploded, sending bits of jelly and other food everywhere. A set of orange-haired twins laughed in the background._

"Brooke, don't—" Cass started, but Brooke's hand was already almost touching the jar…

Cass ducked under the table quick as a flash, pulling her hair around her shoulders so it wouldn't get dirty. She yanked a clean napkin down with her. CRACK! The glass jar burst open above Cass's head and jelly splattered everywhere in a two, maybe three seat radius.

Amidst shrieks of surprise and outrage, Cass could hear the Weasley twins guffawing like maniacs. Cass came out from under the table, completely clean, and Fred's and George's smiles vanished simultaneously.

"Uck!" Brooke exclaimed in disgust. Cass handed Brooke the napkin she had grabbed before the explosion and stood up angrily.

Cass strode to where the twins amidst a lot of whispering from the surrounding tables. "Give me those napkins," she snapped. Fred and George stared at her, agape, probably wondering how she was completely clean. Cass rolled her eyes and ripped the napkins from Fred's and George's place at the table, as well as a couple extra ones. A few people started laughing at the situation. Without another word, Cass walked back over to the demolition zone and passed out the napkins to the jam-covered Gryffindors.

Towards the end of the table, where the older Gryffindors were sitting, Cass heard a female voice say, "That's it; I am writing to your mother. Really, pranking first-years? You should be _ashamed _of yourselves." Cass smiled. She had a feeling the voice belonged to a certain prefect with a habit of scolding the twins.

"Cass, why didn't you tell me it was going to explode? I'm all sticky now," Brooke complained as she wrung jelly from her hair.

"I tried, honestly. It was too late, though. Besides, I would be more worried about the glass from the jar," Cass replied.

"What? The glass? I didn't even feel anything sharp, just the jam," Brooke said in confusion. Looking around the table, Cass realized that there wasn't any glass from the jar on the table. _Huh, weird._

It was at that moment that Professor McGonagall strode furiously down the aisle towards the twins. "HOW DARE YOU! GLASS COULD HAVE GOTTEN IN THEIR EYES, I HAVE_ NEVER_ BEEN SO DISGRACED BY A GRYFFINDOR!" she shrieked at them.

George winced, but Fred said defiantly, "We would never risk glass in their eyes. A simple Vanishing Charm prevented the glass from exploding, too!"

"Oh, so that is what happened," Cass murmured to Brooke, who was shaking with laughter at the twin's predicament.

"Detention!" Professor McGonagall said harshly.

"_Hem, hem!"_

Cass and Brooke, as well as many other students, groaned in unison.

"I think a more severe punishment is in order, Minerva, don't you?" came the sweet voice of Umbridge.

Professor McGonagall turned to Umbridge with eyes wide with disbelief, but they soon narrowed. "I can discipline students of my own House," she said curtly and promptly turned to Fred and George again.

"You will come to my office during your third period on Monday to discuss your punishment more privately," she told them sternly before walking off, giving a nod to Cass.

A seventh-year girl chuckled slightly. Cass sent her a questioning look.

"Fred's and George's third period is Defense," she explained with a grin. Cass and Brooke giggled; Professor McGonagall just retaliated against Umbridge by taking the twins straight out of her class, and Umbridge couldn't do anything about it.

_Point for the good professors,_ Cass thought.

OoOoO

Cass jumped down the stone steps happily, breathing in the fresh September air. Rose ran down the stairs after her, Brooke, Janelle, and Bello behind her. The five first-years, after Brooke had cleaned the jam off her body, had decided to take a walk around the large lake. Cass saw some older students already out here, soaking up the sun.

"Did you see the look on Dumbridge's face when McGonagall announced that Fred and George were to go McGonagall's office during her class? Ha! Priceless!" Brooke said, giggling.

"What even happened, anyway? All I saw was jam everywhere, well, except for Cass," Rose inquired.

"Stupid twins wanted to prank us, probably to get back at me for not trying their weird treats. So, they enchanted a jar of jam to explode whenever someone touched it. Luckily, I Saw it happening before it did and I tried to warn Brooke, but it was too late. So I just ducked under the table as fast as a could," Cass explained.

"Uh, great job, Cash—Cass," said Bello with a red face.

"Thanks, Bello," replied Cass kindly.

The first-years reached the lake and Cass gasped. It was beautiful, serene, and big. Really big. The still-rising sun reflected off the lake's surface and gentle waves created ripples in the water. Cass was glad she brought quills and parchment with her, so she could attempt to capture the picturesque waterscape.

"Wow, it's…" Janelle said.

"Breathtaking," Cass finished for her. The others nodded in agreement.

"Well, are we just going to stand around like fools all day, or walk around the lake?" Brooke interrupted their gazing loudly. Cass rolled her eyes; couldn't the girl appreciate some beauty?

"Okay, let's go!" said Janelle cheerfully. The five first-years started to walk around the lake, kicking pebbles around and telling amusing stories. At one point, a large tentacle shot out of the water and gave them a little wave. Intrigued, Cass had timidly stuck a stick in the water to see how deep it was. After it went down to her hand, Cass had given up, but her curiosity had not really been sated.

Around midmorning, Rose suddenly said, "Hey, Cass, I wanna try something."

Cass, who had been gently prodding a strange, lumpy creature, looked up. "Sure, what?"

"You know how you can See the future?"

"Um…yeah."

"Can you See other things?"

The question threw Cass off guard; did Rose know about her visions of the past? But then the Metamorphmagus said, "Like, if someone is lying? Or how many fingers they're holding behind their back?"

"I'm not sure, I've never tried," Cass said, deciding not to tell her friends she could See the past sometimes.

"Well, then, now seems like the perfect time," Brooke said.

"Okay, so how do we test it?" Cass asked, eager to learn some control over her power.

The others thought about it for a second. Janelle said, "How 'bout we blindfold Cass then hold up objects. Cass can tell us what she thinks they are."

"Great idea!" Cass said. She took her sweater from her waist and tied it around her eyes. Cass could hear her friends rustling about to look for random objects for Cass to guess.

"Okay, I have something you would never be able to guess without the Sight," Brooke said suddenly, surprisingly very close to Cass.

Cass took deep breath and tried to broaden her mind, to reach out with it. After a few seconds, she confidently said, "Centipede."

"Wow, pretty close. It's a worm," Brooke said. Cass felt a flicker pf annoyance; she would have liked to have gotten it right.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Rose's voice came from somewhere to Cass's left.

Knowing what to do this time, Cass's reply was a lot quicker. "A piece of hair?" The question in her voice didn't come from not being sure what the object was, it came from the actual object itself. _Did she cut off a piece of her hair?_

"Right! Good job! I'm surprised you got that," Rose praised.

"Where did you even get hair?" Cass wondered.

"I cut it off, duh."

For a second, Cass was confused. Why would she cut off her own hair? Then she realized that, as a Metamorphmagus, Rose could just make it grow back. _Duh, _Cass repeated Rose's word in her mind.

"Um, I can go next?" Bello's voice came from in front of Cass. He sounded uncomfortable.

"Yeah, um, Bello?" Cass asked, wanting to stop Bello from feeling so awkward around her.

"Yes?"

"Please don't be so…so nervous around me. You don't have to feel like you owe me anything, I saved you because you're my friend and I know you would do the same for me. So, please, don't feel so uncomfortable, Bello," Cass said gently, but firmly.

Bello was silent for a while, but finally said, "Okay, thanks for saying that Cass. I guess…I don't know why I was embarrassed. And you're right, I would do that for you, too." Cass smiled, glad her friend was back to his normal self.

"That was nice of you, Cass," Janelle said.

"Uh huh. Oh, Bello, your object is a…pinecone."

Janelle, Brook, and Rose giggled. "What?" Cass asked.

"That is my object. Wrong person, Cass," Janelle said.

"Oh, oops," said Cass in embarrassment.

"Sorry for laughing," Janelle said.

"No, it's fine. It's funny," Cass giggled. _Oh, well. I'll get it eventually_, Cass thought positively. And she would. Cass would keep practicing until she got it right, because this was _her _gift and she was _going_ to use it for good.

OoOoO


	9. Flashing Images

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, I do not own Hogwarts, **

**But I am an excellent plotter, and these are my own words.**

**A/N: Yeah, the disclaimer is exactly why I am writing a story and not a poem…yikes, that was bad. Anyway, enjoy!**

OoOoO

Cass pushed her mind outwards, towards the direction Janelle's voice had come from. After a few seconds of searching, Cass said, "Stick…a very brittle stick."

Somewhere to Cass's left, one of her friends clapped their hands together. "Yep! That's totally wicked, Cass, totally wicked how you do that," came the sound of Brooke's voice. Cass smiled triumphantly; she had predicted correctly.

Cass lifted the stifling hot sweater that doubled as a blindfold off her face, blinking at the low sun. A breeze ruffled Cass's hair and cooled her sweaty face. It was Sunday afternoon and Cass, Janelle, and Brooke were out 'training'. Really, it was just a fun way to see how many outrageous objects Cass could 'guess'. Janelle always gave her easy stuff (because she was kind like that), but Brooke had gone all out, ranging from plants to, on one memorable round, a live squirrel. Cass's finger still throbbed slightly from that one.

Rose and Bello had gone around the lake to find _more_ weird objects. In truth, Cass was getting a bit tired of it, but she wasn't about to ruin her friends' fun. Besides, it was good practice and very entertaining at times.

"Guys, how about we do something else for a while," Janelle suggested. Cass shot her a grateful look; Janelle was very perceptive and had picked up on Cass's uneasiness.

Brooke pouted (she was having _way_ too much fun with this) and looked at Cass. Then she burst out laughing.

"What?" Cass asked.

"Your—your hair," Brooke choked out, guffawing.

Cass giggled, too; after wearing a sweater on it for over ten minutes, there was no telling what her hair looked like. She quickly pulled it back into a loose ponytail, but a few curly strands just wouldn't stay put. Cass brushed those behind her ear and said, "Janelle, great idea. I'm tired of being the center of attention."

"Cass, I loved your messy hair, won't you put it back?" Brooke teased.

"Nah, I make it a habit not to look like you," Cass retorted, giggling. Brooke harrumphed.

"Okay, so what are we going to—" Janelle started, but then stopped at the look on Cass's face.

Cass furrowed her brows as she felt…something. She couldn't quite articulate it, even in her thoughts. It seemed…familiar, subdued. And close.

"Cass?" Brooke prodded.

Cass shook her head. Brooke and Janelle's eyes widened, then a split second later, Cass felt a hand grip her shoulder.

Cass whipped her head around, nearly causing whiplash. Large, buglike eyes and an overwhelming scent of sherry greeted her. Cass shot to her feet and saw a woman draped in shawls and beads right next to her.

"Sorry, ma'am, you just startled me," Cass said quickly, hoping she hadn't offended the witch.

"My dear, I felt a calling to you…I am Professor Trelawney," the witch said by way of explanation. However, this did nothing to make Cass any less confused, only added to it.

"Nice to meet you, Professor. My name is Cassandra McGarther," Cass introduced herself.

Professor Trelawney stared at her blankly. Cass exchanged glances with Brooke and Janelle.

"Er, do you need anything, Professor?" Cass asked in confusion.

"You have the Gift," the older witch stated matter-of-factly.

Behind her, Cass heard Brooke mutter, "Doesn't take much to know that, what with all the rumors about Cass."

Herself, Cass didn't know what to say. "Um…" Cass trailed off into awkwardness. The professor was still staring at Cass with no expression in her large eyes. Cass met her eyes for the first time…and was yanked away from her body harshly.

_A creepy, throaty voice chanted, "Born with faces same…"_

_The vision flickered painfully. _

_A girl with long, dark red hair held her swollen stomach tenderly. She was pregnant…_

"_Born with faces same," echoed the harsh whisper. _

_Flicker._

_A girl with dark and curly hair ran on the top of an immobile train. A flash of sickly red light knocked her down and the girl screamed a scream of pure and unyielding pain. _

_Flicker._

_A barely formed room stretched before the Seer. On a pedestal sat a...blinding, white-hot pain shot behind her eyes. She couldn't See this, it was guarded, it held pain and suffering…_

"_Born with faces same, born with faces same, born with faces same!" the voice chanted. _

_Flicker. _

_Wings black as a starless night loomed before the Seer's eyes. White hands meant to throttle, to hurt, to kill reached for her…orbs of bloodred pupils filled the Seer's vision…_

_Flicker. _

_Images were spinning faster and faster together, forming an unreadable web of the past, present, and future. Pain was everywhere, woven deep into the Seer and who she was and what she was and who she was going to be and her past and present and future and—_

Cass lurched forward, onto her knees. She moaned and fell into a fetal position, cradling her head. Distantly, she heard Brooke and Janelle calling her name. Cass could just make out the words, "Get McGonagall…somebody, I don't care!" But pain flooded her senses and her vison blackened around the edges. _What was that…what was that…what was that…_Blackness engulfed Cass.

OoOoO

Harry stared at the overwhelming pile of homework with trepidation. He was really starting to regret pushing off his homework for sch a long time. Across the table from him, Ron was looking at the mountain of papers with the same look as Harry's on his face.

A commotion outside the library caused Harry and Ron to snap their heads up in unison. A small, blonde Gryffindor first-year ran past the open doors of the library. A worried-looking McGonagall followed closely behind her. Harry and Ron glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Seems pretty interesting to me, mate. More interesting than _this_ pile of rubbish," Ron said. Harry didn't want to think about how mad that statement would have made Hermione.

"My sentiments exactly," Harry replied, knowing he would regret this later. The two boys hurriedly followed the first-year and their Head of House out of the school.

The two witches made their way towards the lake. As they walked after them, Harry and Ron exchanged confused looks. _The lake? _Harry thought. _What is at the lake? _

As it turned out, there were a couple things at the lake. One of them being Trelawney. The other being the girl that Harry had run into all too much lately. _The girl with the drawing of Voldemort,_ Harry thought.

"Merlin's bloody pants, why is Trelawney out here? Why is she even _out of her tower?_" Ron murmured. Harry nodded in mutual bewilderment; Trelawney _never_ left the tower she called home. So what was she doing by the lake? And with a _first-year_? Students didn't even take Divination until their third year!

The first-year—Cass, Harry recalled—was on the ground, moaning and clutching her head. Harry felt empathy towards her; his own head had been hurting too much for comfort lately.

"Miss McGarther, can you hear me?" McGonagall asked gently.

Ron asked, "Do you think she's alright? Harry?" Harry had started walking over to the first-year that had led McGonagall out.

"Hey, what happened?" he gently prodded the girl.

The young witch stared back at him with shock._ Yes, it's the bloody Boy-Who-Lived,_ thought Harry sarcastically. "I—uh, don't really know. Th—that professor came up to her—Cass, I mean—and suddenly Cass just gave a gasp and fell down. I think—I think she had a… a vision," she whispered nervously.

"Oh," was all Harry said. He looked over to Trelawney. The Divination teacher just sat on the ground and was talking to a Hufflepuff girl with short brown hair. The girl looked uncomfortable but was politely talking back.

Harry walked back over to Ron, but was interrupted by McGonagall saying, "Potter? Weasley? What are you two doing here?" _Was that fear? _Harry thought he detected the emotion behind McGonagall's usual strict voice, but he couldn't tell for sure.

"Er, we saw you running down…sorry, we'll just go," Harry stammered.

"Never mind," McGonagall snapped. "You can take Professor Trelawney back to her tower."

Ron opened his mouth angrily, but Harry just murmured, "It's fine, let's just do it." He added louder, "Yes, Professor."

Luckily, Trelawney got up by herself and walked towards the castle. But she stopped next to Cass and said, "If you ever need advice over control of the Inner Eye, you are always welcome in my tower. I must rest from by experience with the All-Seeing Eye."

Cass raised her eyebrows in obvious skepticism but nodded politely anyway. Trelawney strode dramatically away from the lake, leaving Harry and Ron no choice but to follow the professor.

As they walked through Hogwarts, Harry and Ron received many second looks. There were even some students that muttered, "Wouldn't expect anything less from a lunatic," or something along those lines. Harry did his very best to ignore this, but every time Ron would clench his jaw very tightly and glare at the student who whispered it.

Thankfully, Ron and Harry didn't run into too many people, students or otherwise. Trelawney had started to mutter to herself, making Harry nervous. He _really_ didn't need an insane Trelawney on his hands right now.

When they reached the tower, Trelawney scurried up the ladder like the bug her eyes suggested she was. Harry and Run clambered up after her, just to follow through with McGonagall's orders.

In the sweltering tower, Harry started to sweat. Various aromas clogged his nostrils, but Harry had developed a bit of an immunity to it over the last two years. Trelawney sat down in a fluffy armchairs and twiddled with one of her beads.

"Come on, let's go, mate," Ron muttered. The two fifth-years headed towards the exit, but they were stopped by a raspy voice.

"Twins," said Trelawney. _Huh? _

Harry just brushed it off; she had been saying random words like that the whole time up to the tower.

"Yeah, let's go," Harry said. The two boys left Trelawney to her mumblings and didn't look back. Both inwardly sighed as they thought of the pile of essays waiting to be written.

OoOoO

Cass waited impatiently for the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, to fetch Pain-Relief Potion.

A question bounced about Cass's mind unendingly. _What was that…what was that…what was that? _Cass wondered if the red-haired girl was the same one from before or just a coincidence. She wondered about the weird chanting…something faces being born? That didn't even make sense! She wondered about the wings, too. Were they the same wings from her dream a couple days earlier? If they were, who did they belong to? _What _did they belong to?

Most of all, Cass wondered about the hazy room with the pedestal and the thing Cass couldn't See. Why had it caused her so much pain? Why had the room been so hazy? _What_ was the thing on the pedestal?

Cass's thoughts were cut short as Madam Pomfrey returned with the potion.

"Here you go, drink up!" commanded the stern nurse.

"Thank you," Cass said. She took the vial from Madam Pomfrey's outstretched hands and uncapped it. Cass lifted the potion to her mouth and swallowed it. The potion tasted bitter, but was otherwise not too bad for Cass's first potion. _I just drank a magical potion_, Cass thought. She didn't find it too strange, surprisingly. _I guess you get used to it after a certain point._

"Madam Pomfrey, do you know why I had that vision? I mean, I've never had such a strong and long one before," Cass inquired as she handed the empty bottle back to the nurse.

"I do not know much about that area of magic, Miss McGarther, but I think it has something to do with the fact that you both are Seers. When Seers get together, the visions they have tend to be more powerful," Madam Pomfrey answered.

"Oh, that makes sense," said Cass. That didn't answer any questions about the actual vision, but at least now Cass knew why it had happened.

"Are you sure you don't need to stay overnight? You better not be saying you're alright just to appease me," the witch told Cass sternly.

Cass nodded her head. "I _do _feel fine. Confused, yes, but fine. Thank you for the potion."

"You're welcome," replied Madam Pomfrey warmly.

Cass left the Hospital Wing and headed up to the Gryffindor Tower, questions echoing in her head. She decided to write and draw everything she could remember about her vision. Maybe that would help. Cass shuddered inwardly at the images from her prediction. At the bone-white hands. At the ebony wings. At the picture of Cass herself running on top of a train.

She was going to have nightmares tonight.


	10. Broomsticks and Behests

**DISCLAIMER: Do I look like a blond millionaire? Actually, you don't know what I look like. But I'm not JKR in any case, so, naturally, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: Hellooo! Big thanks to Yuuki no Yuki for pointing out my mistake with the Hatstall (not Hatstill, like I wrote). I have no idea what happened there, but it's fixed now. Big, BIG thanks to **_**every**_** reviewer who has taken the time to comment on this story. I honestly can't believe how fast this story is growing (the last update pushed us past 2600 hits!) and I appreciate each and every one of you guys' positive feedback! Please enjoy!**

OoOoO

The next few weeks were definitely…_interesting_. After the fiasco with Professor Trelawney, the whole school had looked at Cass sideways for a few days (although how they knew was a mystery, even to a Seer. Certainly none of Cass's friends had told anybody, and she doubted Harry or his friend had said anything. Hogwarts truly is a magical place). Cass's friends' reactions, however, ranged from understanding (like Janelle) to demanding answers (like Brooke). Cass had told them the truth; she really didn't know what happened. But she had also told them that she didn't remember what she had seen. That was a lie; Cass remembered everything all too vividly. If only she could _understand _it. In any case, Cass felt an intense drive to find her parents.

This vigor inevitably led her to the library to research old wizarding families. _This should be fun, all I have to go by is dark red hair_, Cass had thought to herself sarcastically. The Weasleys? No, Cass didn't really have any freckles. The Abbotts? That didn't seem right either. The Prewetts? No, their line just led Cass back to the Weasleys. After what seemed like many long hours (which was, in all actuality, probably just onehour) in a stuffy library on a Saturday morning, Cass had been ready to give up. That was until she had met Hermione Granger.

Cass had been combing through thick volumes filled with dust that made her sneeze when the prefect had walked over to her.

"Do you need any help?" Hermione had asked gently, gesturing to Cass's struggle to hold the books.

"Uh, yes please!" Cass had replied. Hermione proceeded to help Cass lay all the books on a nearby table.

"What does a first-year need with all these books on…genealogy?" Hermione had whispered, reading the books' titles.

Cass blushed. "Well, I was trying to find my parents—_birth_ parents," Cass corrected herself. "They abandoned me at a fire station, and I'm not sure if they were magical or non-magical…I just—"

"—Have to know," Hermione finished for her, smiling. Cass nodded and smiled back.

Over the next few weeks, Cass had seen Hermione a lot at the library, enough that the two Gryffindors had gotten to know each other a bit. Cass hadn't been surprised to find out that Hermione was friends with Harry Potter; her, Harry, and the other prefect, Ronald, were always together. She _was _a bit confused with the whole S.P.E.W. thing.

"Well, it seems to me that the house-elves _like _working, right? Why take that away from them? They definitely shouldn't be treated badly, and it would be better if they got paid, but if they don't want it, why force it upon them? Besides, Hogwarts elves _are_ treated well, so you don't have to leave _them _clothes," Cass had said. "I do agree, though. I never thought wizards would have slaves, but the house-elves chose it for themselves, so I think it would be wrong to take away that choice."

Hermione had seemed slightly disappointed, but she didn't press S.P.E.W. on Cass anymore. In fact, she looked thoughtful after listening to Cass and had immediately run off to research _more _on house-elves. Cass, however, had perked up as soon as the word "elf" was said and, after giving Hermione her opinion, ran off to find Brooke or Sarah or another one of her friends to look for one.

In her classes, Cass was doing wonderfully. Potions and Charms were her favorite ones. In Charms, both Cass and the Ravenclaw, Cyrene, were the first to ask and answer questions. Naturally, they had become fast friends. Cyrene was very curious, maybe even more curious than Cass (although Cass would tell you otherwise). Cyrene was fascinated by the sparks Brooke produced from her wand when she was angry, she was fascinated by wand movement and analyzed each incantation the first-years learned. Cyrene was fascinated by Cass's ability, too, asking her questions about feelings Cass got and other such things. She was even fascinated in History of Magic (which was a miracle to Cass; how could _anyone_ be fascinated by that droning voice?).

Cass had spent a lot of time trying to develop her gift, too, with the help of Brooke, Janelle, Rose, Bello, and sometimes Sarah. She found that Seeing the present was easiest; it was absolute. Cass almost never got visions of the past, though, and they always came with a bit of a headache. Sarah had thought of a perfectly good reason for this; the past was sometimes hard to deal with. Cass's visions of the future, however often, were the least reliable. She usually only Saw the future just before actually happened, which definitely put a damper on its usefulness.

By now, the whole school knew about Cass's gift, just not the extent of it (like Seeing the past, which Rose had explained wasn't very common). For a couple very annoying days, Cass received requests for predicting people's future several times an hour, and don't even get her started on the Gryffindor Gossips. Lavender and Parvarti _fawned _over Cass, much to her frustration. Brooke got a real kick out of it, but Cass would just glare at her through Lavender's pleas for palm-reading.

One memorable instance of someone asking for a prediction was in Defense Against the Dark Arts during the first week of October.

"Everyone, it seems we have a Seer with us," said Umbridge. Cass grimaced at her book that she was pretending to read. _Why in the name of treacle tarts is this toad doing this?_ Cass had thought angrily.

"Miss McGarther, if you could please explain to everyone _why_ you have spread rumors about yourself being a Seer?" Umbridge smiled sweetly—sickly.

Cass tore her eyes from her book and adopted a blank expression. "_I _didn't spread those rumors, ma'am. In fact, I wish no one knew about it."

Umbridge's smile slipped. "Miss McGarther, if you are going to fib, at least make it convincing. The ability to See the future doesn't develop until a witch or wizard has reached the age of thirteen, _at _the very least."

Cass couldn't help the words that came out next. "I make it a habit to do the impossible." Umbridge's eyes narrowed. "Ma'am," Cass tacked on as an afterthought.

"Well, Miss McGarther, I am sure you would be happy to demonstrate for the class?" said the toad with a high-pitched voice and bulging eyes.

"I do not think that this is the right time for that, Professor Umbridge."

Umbridge gave Cass a wide smile. "Just one prediction."

"No, thank you."

"As…proof of your ability?"

"I don't need to prove myself, ma'am, but thank you for your support," Cass said in as polite a voice she could manage. Next to her, Brooke was trying—and failing—to hold in her giggles. Princess Sasha was smiling evilly at Cass behind Umbridge, which she blatantly ignored. Cass could barely think about the, the _witch _without having an aneurysm. She couldn't believe Sasha had the nerve to even _look_ at her, after she almost killed Bello. Sarah gave Cass a sympathetic look, which Cass replied with a slight upturning of the corners of her lips.

Umbridge gave a satisfied nod. "Obviously _not _a Seer, then. One must not tell lies, Miss McGarther."

Cass had almost had it with the toad. "Professor, I'm _not _lying."

"Then why won't you make a prediction?"

"Fine! I predict you will be carried away by a horde of angry centaurs, screaming that you are Dolores Jane Umbridge as they whisk you away!" Cass snapped. _Idiot, you just _had _to say something, didn't you?_, Cass thought to herself.

"How did you know my middle—never mind! Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Miss McGarther!" Umbridge announced to Cass with a triumphant grin. _You were set up, you dolt!_ Cass said to herself beratingly.

Sarah gave Cass another sympathetic look, which Cass returned with a grim smile. The toad beamed sickeningly at her, but Cass just looked at her with her head held high and did her best to look down her nose at Umbridge. She didn't_ quite_ succeed, as Cass was shorter than the professor (and sitting down to boot), but she got her point across.

Sasha snickered at Cass, which Cass returned, and Marcell gave Cass a look that said, 'I don't really blame you.' Cass gave him an eyeroll with a small gesture to Umbridge then continued to fake read with as much dignity as she could muster.

_Great, just great_. _Already lost House points,_ Cass had thought.

After that incident, Cass had done her best to annoy Umbridge in class, whether it be "tripping" and knocking over something or writing her homework essays in a mix of print and cursive (Cass figured controlling, organized-to-an-overwhelming-degree Umbridge would be really irked by this one). Cass, Brooke, and Sarah also took the time to go to the library after Defense, get _useful _textbooks on the subject, and try to teach themselves the subject. Cass felt extra motivated to do this, for she had_ Seen _Voldemort.

Jackson Smith, Euan Abercrombie, and Nick Barnes (or, as Cass liked to call them, the Gryffindor Goons) were insufferable. Brooke was remarking on this to Cass as the two girls sat in the common room writing about the properties of a Forgetfulness Potion.

"Mad, all of them," Brooke complained, craning her neck to see Cass's immaculate notes on the potion. Jackson had just given a whoop of joy at something on the other side of the common room.

Cass dotted an _i _with a quick jab of her quill. "Mhm," Cass murmured back absently, sparing a one-second glance at the Goons. "What are they going on about over there?" she wondered.

"Reckon we oughta find out?" Brooke said, eager to procrastinate the homework. Her face took on a look of excitement that Cass had grown to fear. "Could you _See_ what is going on? Eh, eh?"

Cass rolled her eyes and finished off a paragraph. "It doesn't work like that, Brooke. There's a lot of things they could be excited about that is going on over there. Besides, I don't want to become _too _dependent on my gift."

"Whatever," Brooke said dismissively. "Come on."

Cass and Brooke trotted over to the Gryffindor Goons, which was where all the notices were hung. One particular document stood out to Cass, saying that first-years were to start flying lessons on Thursdays with the Slytherins.

Cass flashed an excited grin at Brooke, who returned the gesture (if less enthusiastically). Thursday…that was in two days! Cass almost hooted with joy like Jackson had, but she controlled herself, not wanting to destroy her dignity. _I am going to learn how to fly!_

OoOoO

A gentle breeze ruffled Cass's ponytail, tickling her chin. The sun was shining down on the Gryffindors and Slytherins, and in it, her hair had an almost red tint around the outer edges.

The first-years stood in two lines, worn-looking brooms between each student. A woman with short, gray hair and yellow eyes that reminded Cass of a hawk introduced herself as Madam Hooch.

"Good afternoon, class," said the teacher.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch," the class replied.

Madam Hooch gave a nod and looked at the students appraisingly. Her gaze snagged on Cass for a second, making Cass sigh with annoyance. Thankfully, Madam Hooch didn't seem to thin much of Cass's resemblance to the Boy-Who-Lived. _Finally, a teacher who understands people can look similar, _Cass thought with relief.

"Well, go on," Madam Hooch said impatiently, gesturing for the first-years to step up to the brooms.

As a collective group, the Slytherins and Gryffindors moved to stand by their broomsticks. Satisfied, Madam Hooch continued, "Now, stick your right—no, Abercrombie that's your left—stick your right hand over your broomstick and say 'up.' Speak with conviction and command."

"UP!" the class shouted.

Cass was very pleased to see her broom shoot off the ground as soon as the word left her mouth. She was not so pleased when it slammed into her hand hard enough to force it upwards a bit. Ignoring her slightly-throbbing hand, Cass grinned at Sarah from the other line. Sarah's broom had come up on her first try, too.

"UP!" Brooke yelled next to Cass. Her broomstick slowly, almost hesitantly, rose to her hand. Brooke gave Cass a satisfied, serious nod. This made Cass laugh, because it was not like Brooke at all. Brooke soon joined her.

"Good, now, grasp your broom firmly," Madam Hooch instructed, showing the first-years how to mount their brooms. "On my whistle, kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady and hover a meter or two off the ground."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle loudly, and Cass kicked off the ground with as much force as she muster. She shot up about a meter and a half, leaving her stomach behind. Next to her, Brooke shot up even higher, grinning like a madwoman.

Cass felt a smile of her own form on her face. _I'm flying! I'm actually flying! _Cass's heart soared with the feeling, and the broom seemed to respond to it. It rapidly ascended above Brooke.

"Eek!" Cass exclaimed. Below her, Sarah and Brooke were laughing at her struggle.

"Miss McGarther lean forward please!" clipped Madam Hooch. Cass obeyed and felt her chest clench as she descended. She went to thank Madam Hooch, but she was occupied with a disobedient Nick Barnes, one of the Gryffindor Goons.

Cass abruptly stopped leaning down when she was more or less at the same height as Brooke and Sarah. She wobbled dangerously for a moment before righting herself.

"This is wicked!" she shouted at them.

Sarah smiled. As a witch who grew up in a magical environment, Sarah had probably ridden a broom dozens of times, but she still said, "It is wicked, isn't it?"

"You're such a little kid, Cass," Brooke snorted, referring to Cass's childlike sense of wonder with _everything_ magical.

Cass narrowed her eyes at Brooke in a mock loathingly way. "If you're saying I'm really cute, thanks."

Sarah laughed as Brooke rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, Brooke said, "Guys, I dare you to roll around the broom."

Cass's heart gave little flutters at the thought of going upside down. Sarah seemed to share her unease. "Are you mad? I'm not doing that!" Sarah looked thoughtful for a second. Her eyes lit up in excitement. "But you can," she added to Brooke.

Cass was about to protest, but decided she wanted to see this. To be safe, she tried to give herself a vision to no avail. _It just picks and choses when to work, doesn't it?_ Cass thought to herself in frustration. Several instances like this one had happened over the last couple of weeks. Cass would try to Look for something, but nothing came. Cass supposed it was because she didn't really know how to use it yet.

"Tell me when she isn't looking," Brooke said, gripping her broom handle tightly, so tight her knuckles turned white.

Cass and Sarah both gazed at Madam Hooch. When the time was right, they both yelled, "_Now!_"

Cass turned her head to see Brooke fling herself sideways. She spun to the bottom of the broom and it almost looked as if she was going to make it the whole way around. Until she swung back and forth like a pendulum upside down, finally coming to a complete stop.

Cass laughed her head off, and Sarah wheezed as she wiped her eyes. Brooke gave them both murderous stares before growling, "Help me, don't just sit there laughing!" This only made Cass and Sarah laugh harder.

After about twenty seconds, Cass took pity on Brooke and flew over to her, slightly angling her broom so Cass arrived under Brooke. With a heave, she pushed Brooke right side up.

"You're welcome," Cass said, snorting.

"_You're welcome_," Brooke mocked, rubbing her head as the blood flowed out of it. "Took you long enough."

"Uh huh. Well, it was your idea."

Sarah flew over to the two Gryffindors. "Feeling okay, Brooke?" she asked with a slightly teasing tone.

Brooke shot her a smirk but didn't say anything else as Madam Hooch called the first-years back down to the ground. Reluctantly, Cass flew back down, her stomach giving little leaps as the ground rushed towards her.

Cass's feet touched the ground, hard. Her knees wobbled for a second before Cass composed herself and held her broomstick by her side.

From an outsider looking in, Cass seemed like someone who had been riding brooms for years the way she held her broomstick so naturally.

OoOoO

_A dingy, old-looking bar was filled with many figures. They were discussing something. _

"…_I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone," a raven-haired teen was saying. _

_Silence reigned throughout the bar. Bright green eyes bored into the Seer's inner ones. _

_The dream flickered in a dizzying web of images. _

_Three robe-clad figures sat by the fireplace, talking to a head—a floating head. In the Seer's vision, this seemed perfectly natural…_

_Flicker._

"_Come on, Harry, we need a teacher…heaven knows that woman won't teach us," a bushy-haired girl was saying to a boy whose face was hidden._

"_We need someone with experience, we need a teacher…" _

_The girl's voice was echoing into an indistinguishable jumble of words. A dull ache formed behind the Seer's eyes… whether they were her inner or actual eyes was unclear to her…_

_Flicker. _

_A dark hall stretched before her, a door at the far, far end. The Seer felt emotions not her own; fear, evil, longing, anger, a need for something…she tried to grab it, grab what they wanted, to take it away from this twisted, malicious thing and hide it away from its claws, claws meant to choke, to kill. It was behind something, protected…_she_ couldn't touch, but someone else could…_

_A newer presence entered this space, this hall of horrors and darkness. The Seer turned her metaphorical head to face this new thing. Bright green eyes met hers before she was whisked away with a sharp pain in her temple…_

_Flicker. A train stopped, a girl crouched, invisible to all but the Seer. Flicker. Wings stretched out in unimaginable heights. Flicker. A girl with dark red hair and bright green eyes rolled her eyes at a messy-haired boy…_

Cass awoke with a start, panting heavily and heart beating fast. The dream-vision was rapidly disappearing from her mind. It was important! She couldn't forget it! Quick as bullet, Cass leapt from her bed and clumsily grabbed the parchment and quill on her nightstand. She darted through the darkness of her dormitory, blindly searching for the knob of her bathroom door.

Finding it after only a second or two, she hurriedly yanked the door open and went into the loo, turning on the lights and closing the door as she did so.

Cass wrote down and drew everything she could remember from the dream. It only took a minute or two; she didn't remember much of it. Finished, Cass looked over the parchment.

_Bushy-haired girl—Hermione?—talking to Harry about teaching. _

_Dingy bar with people—harry was definitely there. Talking about believing him. _

_Dark hall, evil presence. Another presence—don't know what. _

_Head of fire—head in fire? Three people talking to it—older people. Looked like Gryffindor fireplace. _

_Train, something about a train._

That was it. Cass had also sketched a pair of wings and a half-formed face of a boy with unusually messy hair. From an angle, it _could_ be Harry…but no, this boy's eyes hadn't been green…had they? In any case, Cass could tell this wasn't Harry. At the very bottom of the page, Cass had drawn a pair of long, slender hands—creepy hands. Even on the parchment, they looked unnatural, twisted. Evil. These hands belonged to someone—_something_—evil.

OoOoO

Cass dragged her feet to the Gryffindor table on Sunday morning. Upon flopping herself at the table, she poured herself a cup of the strongest tea she could find.

Brooke, who had been shooting her concerned looks on the walk down to the Great Hall, said, "Did you…have a nightmare? A, uh, vision?"

Cass nodded mutely, sipping her tea and ignoring the scalding her tongue got because of it.

She hadn't gotten much more sleep last night. Cass was now nursing a nasty headache right behind her eyes, proving that whatever she Saw was a vision. On the bright side, she had managed to decipher a little more of it.

Cass was sure that the person that was talking in the dirty bar was Harry Potter. _Why_ he was in a bar, Cass didn't know. Moreover, that vision about the bushy-haired girl—that was Hermione—that vision must be about Hermione asking Harry to teach them something. But what?

Cass had also deduced that in the dark hall, there was something…something a great evil. _Voldemort,_ she thought with a slight shiver. He felt so, so _wrong._ Twisted, malicious, evil, unnatural…it made her sick.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Brooke asked gently.

Cass debated with herself for a second. Should she tell Brooke? If she did, _what_ should she tell her? Her decision made, Cass said, "It was about this hallway, something evil wants…something. I don't know, Brooke, I don't _know_…" Cass trailed off, shrugging hopelessly. It was this moment that she realized that she didn't know anything. Even with her Sight, there was a whole magical _world _out there, filled with evil, _evil _things, things like Voldemort. And she wasn't even being taught to defend herself, because of that stupid, _rude _toad…

"Holy treacle tart!" Cass exclaimed, having an epiphany. _Hermione was talking about teaching…what if she meant teaching us how to defend ourselves? She must know that Voldemort is back…_

"What?" Brooke questioned with furrowed brows.

"Hold on," Cass said. "I have to see something!" Without another word, Cass took off at a brisk pace towards the end of the table.

"Hermione, Harry…uh, Ronald," Cass said nervously. _I really should have thought this through._

The three fifth-years turned their heads in surprise at the sound of Cass's voice.

"Oh, hi, Cass," Hermione greeted, kicking Ronald as he opened his mouth, probably about to say something about Cass interrupting their conversation.

"Um, this may sound weird, but…_willyouteachmedefensetoo?_" Cass quickly and with a burning face.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

Cass took a deep breath. "You see, I had this dream last night about you three talking about teaching…something. I really didn't mean to pry, I just can't help it…but can you teach me Defense, Harry?"

Ronald's eyes widened; he obviously didn't know the extent of Cass's powers. Hermione looked at Cass with pride—probably because Cass wanted to learn. Harry just looked thoughtful.

"Look, Cass, I really don't know what I'm doing, I'm not sure…" Harry trailed off, looking awkward.

Cass felt her hopes fly out the window. She couldn't, _wouldn't _be defenseless against _Voldemort._ Cass looked Harry straight in the eye, green eyes meeting green eyes. "I _Saw _Voldemort—" Ronald gave a pathetic gasp of horror. Cass continued, "Harry, it's not like he is some distant threat. He is _here, _he is _alive, _and he is _bloody _terrifying." Cass's voice broke on the last word as she thought of Voldemort. She hated sounded weak. Cass took a deep breath as Harry's eyes widened. "So do not leave me _defenseless_!"

Harry nodded, eyes still wide. "Yeah, yeah…er, okay. Um, it'll be mostly older kids, so if you want to, uh, bring your friends or something…" he suggested, looking embarrassed.

"Thanks, Harry!"

Hermione gave Cass an amused smile, while Ronald was shaking his head in shock—Cass _had _said Voldemort's name. _Honestly, it's just a name. Fear his power, fear his twistedness, fear his actions, not his name. Only gives him more power,_ Cass thought in frustration.

On her way back to her seat, Cass thought about who she would bring. Definitely Brooke, Sarah, Janelle, Rose, and Bello, if they wanted to. Maybe the Ravenclaw girl from Charms, Cyrene? Marcell?

"What was it?" Brooke asked as Cass returned.

"Brooke, how would you like to join a secret club that teaches you Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

OoOoO


	11. Untrained Armies and Impossible Rooms

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Army, Hermione Granger, or Ron Weasley. Those rights go to a certain blond millionaire, unfortunately not to me. **

**A/N: Hellooo! Thanks to everyone who favorited, reviewed, and added this story to your story alert list! It really means a lot to me to see so many people like my writing. As always, feel free to review! And please enjoy! **

OoOoO

Harry woke up with an all-too familiar pang in his scar, a dark hallway rapidly disappearing from his mind. Blinking groggily, he groped for his glasses on the bedside table. Finding them, Harry shoved them onto his face and sat up.

Throughout the weekend, Harry had felt this lightness, this _happiness_ in his chest at the thought of his tutoring club. Despair had been turned to hope, and Harry no longer felt so…so isolated. Yesterday, when the first-year, Cass, had asked him if she could join had only increased this happiness. Harry couldn't quite figure out why, but the fact that Cass was coming made him inexplicitly swell with pride—for himself or the first-year, he didn't know. Maybe it was the fact that a _first-year _had had the bravery to come up to the Boy-Who-Lived to ask to join a club, mostly comprised of older students, that would teach students to fight (Harry stubbornly believed that _everyone _would be teaching and helping each other, while he was just a demonstrator).

Harry's thoughts turned to Dumbledore and his warning, a thing that happened a lot lately. _What did he mean by it? What is going to happen this year? _These questions, along with others like it, often bounced mercilessly unanswerable in his mind.

On the bed next to his, Ron started to stir. Throughout the dormitory, the other boys were doing the same. Before anyone else could, Harry dashed up from his bed and into the loo to get dressed.

A few moments later, Harry and Ron were walking down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room, talking about where the Defense meetings might be held in quiet voices. A group of students crowded around where all the notices were held caught Harry's attention.

"What do you reckon all this is about?" Harry wondered, passing by a dark-haired girl drawing in an armchair. Harry recognized Cass and smiled at her in greeting; no way was he going to ignore one of the only people who believed him.

She smiled back at him but looked a little glum.

"Dunno," Ron said, either not noticing Cass or paying her no heed.

"What's wrong, Cass?" Harry asked. Cass pressed her lips together and nodded her head towards where their Housemates were gathered.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and walked over to the clustered Gryffindors.

"Out of the way, out of the way, I'm a prefect and must conduct—uh— prefect business," Ron declared, trying to make his way through the sea of kids. When that didn't work, he said, "If you don't move, my friend _Harry Potter _will go raving mad on all of you!"

Like someone had shouted, "Fire!" all the younger kids backed up and let Harry and Ron pass. Harry shot Ron a seething look and felt an odd prickling in his fingers. He clenched his fist tightly, almost a reflex now; lately, Harry had felt his magic much more presently. Not to a point of producing accidental magic, just…a slight increase.

"Ron, I have enough _bloody _people believing I'm a lunatic, I don't need your help, thanks," Harry snapped. But Ron wasn't paying any attention to him. He was staring at a notice pinned up on the red and gold board with an angry expression on his face.

"What—" Harry broke off as he read the sign. It was saying that no clubs, no gatherings, no student meetings, no societies, no teams, and no student organizations shall be held, proclaiming it to be _Educational Decree #24. _Proclaimed by Dolores Jane Umbridge, _the High Inquisitor._ Harry continued to read only by force of will and through narrowed eyes. _Any students found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled?!_ Harry read with barely controlled fury.

"She. Knows." He said through gritted teeth.

"Who? Umbridge?" Ron asked.

Harry gave a curt nod. "Does Hermione know?"

"No. Reckon we ought to tell her?"

Harry nodded and he and Ron headed towards the stairs to the girl's dormitories. On their way, they passed Cass. The first-year suddenly gave a delighted laugh and looked at Harry and Ron expectantly. This brought Harry to a slower pace, but not to a stop.

"Hey, Ron—" Harry began, but Ron was already halfway up the stairs…CLONK! In an instant, the steps turned into a steep stone slide. Ron came sliding down with a curse (or two or three or four curses).

Behind Harry, Cass was giggling uncontrollably. Harry soon joined her; he couldn't help himself, Ron looked absolutely hilarious. His friend was sprawled out on the floor like a fish out of water and making noises identical to one.

Still chuckling, Harry gave Ron a helpful hand up. "Bloody stairs—all you did was _laugh_. I suppose little Miss Seer Saw everything before it happened, too," he grumbled. This elected another round of laughter from Harry and Cass.

"WEEEE!" a blond first-year shouted with delight as she slid down the newly-formed slide. "What's all this?" she asked when she reached the ground, brushing off her skirt.

"Dunno, but it's brilliant!" Cass answered. Fortunately for Ron, the green-eyed girl didn't mention anything about Ron's less than graceful trip down the smooth slide as the two first-years left for breakfast in the Great Hall.

Harry felt a nagging towards the back of his mind as he watched Cass leave. She seemed so much like…someone. Harry knew it was ridiculous, but she reminded him of his run-in with the Mirror of Erised. Cass held herself much like…Harry didn't finish the thought as Hermione slid neatly down the stone slide.

"Please tell me it wasn't one of you two that caused the stairs to turn into a slide," Hermione said by way of greeting.

"Uh huh, 'morning to you, too, Hermione," Ron said cheekily.

"Ron tried to go up," Harry supplied.

"Well, how was I supposed to know it would turn into a bloody slide? Why did it do that, anyway?"

"It's an old-fashioned rule," Hermione explained. "The founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls, I read about it in—"

"—_Hogwarts, A History_," Harry and Ron finished in unison.

"What were you going up there for, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Come look," Harry replied, leading her over to the notice.

Hermione read the sign quickly and, upon finishing it, her expression became hard.

"Someone must've told her!" Ron said angrily—and loudly.

"_Shhh!" _Hermione hissed, shaking her head. "No one told her—trust me, we would know."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment. Anyone who blabbed…we would know," said Hermione darkly.

"You scare me sometimes, Hermione," said Ron, but, despite his words, he gave her a wicked grin.

Harry and his friends left for the Great Hall. On their way down, they passed some people from the meeting at Hog's Head. Hermione frantically waved them away, saying that she didn't want to draw attention to themselves.

"You're probably right, Hermione," Harry said, shrugging at Ernie Macmillan.

"Isn't she always?" Ron deadpanned.

"Well, honestly, walking up to us like that," Hermione said exasperatedly. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "If Umbridge knows about the meeting at Hog's Head, who's to say she won't know if we meet up in the hallways?"

At her words, Ron looked around nervously. "Really?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe you should be quiet just in case," she said, sharing an amused look with Harry.

"Yeah, no more talking about how much you're in love with Victor Kr—"

"Shut your flytrap, Harry," Ron grumbled, catching on to the joke.

When the trio entered the Great Hall, they tried their best to look as nonchalant as possible. Cass, bless her, didn't even give them a second glance, but her friend looked like she wanted to say something or ask something of the three fifth-years.

Across the Hall, Zacharius Smith and Hannah Abbott were making their way towards Harry.

"No—see you—_later!" _Hermione mouthed with an air of panic, sitting down next to Harry and Ron.

As soon as they had taken their seats, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were bombarded with questions from Neville, Fred, George, and Ginny.

"Did you see the sign?"

"Reckon the toad knows?"

"Who told her?"

"What're we gonna do?"

They were all looking at Harry expectantly. He cast a nervous look in the nearby vicinity.

"We're going to do it anyway, obviously," said Harry in a low voice. "Better than the toad ever could."

OoOoO

Cass didn't spare Hermione—or Harry and Ronald, for that matter—a second glance as they walked past her and Brooke.

Before her friend could say anything, Cass said, "Don't—it'll look suspicious for a first-year to talk to a fifth-year," in as quiet a voice she could manage.

"Oh, yeah."

Cass shoveled eggs into her mouth and thought about the secret club. She had decided to keep it simple on who she was going to bring; Janelle, Bello, Rose, Sarah, and Brooke. She could ask her friends in Hufflepuff about it in Herbology this afternoon. For Sarah, maybe she could meet her before class.

Cass wondered where they were going to be held—Harry had told her he would tell her when they found a spot. Her world tilted and Cass got an _almost_ vision of a big door…but it…_shifted_. It went from one thing to another, random rooms like a painting room or a garden, but mostly just half-formed pictures that Cass couldn't—and wouldn't even try to— decipher.

She shook her head to clear it, banishing the images from her mind. _Well, wasn't that great help?_ she thought to herself sarcastically. Nevertheless, she made a mental note to write it down later.

"Hey, Cass, we are learning the _Lumos_ Charm today. You know, the wand-lighting one," Brooke said. "Just thought you should know for your _notes._"

"Ha-ha. You love those notes when it comes time to do our homework," Cass retorted, giving Brooke a pointed look.

"That—whatever. You probably already know it, anyway."

"You're not very good at making insults," Cass remarked. Brooke gave an affronted look, to which Cass responded by sliding her wand from her robe and holding it behind the black material of her uniform, looking around to make sure no teachers were watching. Satisfied, Cass whispered, "_Lumos!" _

The tip of her silver wand ignited, albeit dimly. Cass grew excited, and the light flared. "_Eek! _Uh…" Cass racked her brains for the spell to stop enchantments; it was in her notes somewhere. "_Finish! Fin? Finite!" _Cass whispered furiously, relieved when the light diminished.

Next to Cass, Brooke was pounding the table with laughter. "Ha! '_Finish!'" _she quoted Cass mockingly.

"Yeah, uh huh. Funny," Cass said, embarrassed. She stuffed her wand back into her robe, trying to be inconspicuous.

"Real subtle!" one of the Weasley twins—Fred, Cass thought—called.

"Didn't see a thing!" George called after him.

Cass pursed her lips, annoyed. Ever since the ill-fated day with the jam explosion, the Terror Twins hadn't tried any more pranks—which was saying something, because they made it their obligation to play jokes on first-years. Still, they irritated her to death.

"So, Cass. What are we going to do about the—the...well, you know," Brooke said. When Cass just narrowed her eyes in confusion, she continued in a lower voice, "The club? What about the sign?"

Although Cass wasn't one to blatantly disrespect rules, she knew this one, this 'decree' was begging to be broken. It had to be, or Cass would be defenseless. And she would not leave herself defenseless, especially after that vision of Voldemort. "What about it? What's some silly ole, too-fancy-for-a-bunch-of-kids sign to stop us?"

OoOoO

"Everyone, please take note that to maintain the _Lumos_ charm, you must maintain concentration," Professor Flitwick lectured. Cass dutifully wrote this down on her notes page. "_Lumos!" _Professor Flitwick demonstrated for the class. His tiny wand lit in his hand, bright and clear.

"Since we went over the theory last class, today we will fulfill the practical part of this lesson. Please form groups of three and cast the charm. The reason I want you in groups is to give each other constructive criticism and to discuss what methods are best to produce a reliable _Lumos _charm. We will share ideas at the end of the class. Begin!"

Cass eagerly withdrew her intricate silver wand from her backpack and turned to Brooke. "Wanna be a group? We can ask Cyrene, too," she said. Brooke gave a nod from behind her bookbag. She was ruffling through it, probably looking for her wand. "Honestly, Brooke, your life would be much easier if you took the time to organize your stuff," Cass advised.

"Uh huh," Brooke replied, not looking up. Finally, she pulled her hand out, in it a thick brown wand. She wore a triumphant smile.

Cass rolled her eyes and turned to Cyrene. "Would you like to be in a group with me and Brooke?"

Cyrene beamed, sharp eyes glittering. "Yes, I would. Thanks," she replied as she repositioned her chair to face Cass and Brooke.

"Brilliant. Okay, I'll go first," said Cass, eager to cast the charm. Last night, while Brooke was taking a shower and Pauline was doing who knows what, Cass had tried the charm. She had propped her textbook up on her pillow, sat cross-legged on her bedspread, and repeated the charm. After three tries, her wand had lit, made a _pop! _noise, and gone out. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen this time—or flare up like it had in the Great Hall.

"_Lumos!"_ she cast. Cass's wand lit up brightly, sputtered a bit, and dimmed dramatically. Cass immediately tried to reach out with her mind, as if having a vision. Almost like if the light was her vision, and her vision was flickering…she put more power into it. The light flared blindingly, making Cass squint. "_Finite!" _she said frantically. The light cut off abruptly, leaving Cass feeling disoriented and drained.

Professor Flitwick looked at her with wide, amused eyes, barely holding in a chuckle. "Miss McGarther, wonderful display of pushing more power into it to produce more light. However, instead of using _Finite_, which would cut off the power entirely and leave you a bit tired, try _Nox._"

Cass could have smacked her forehead in frustration at herself. _Why _hadn't she used _Nox_? There it was, right in her notes. 'To put a light out, simply use _Nox_.' How could she have been so stupid?

Professor Flitwick still looked amused, but he had a strange look in his eye. Cass couldn't _quite _put it into words…

"Reminiscent. He looks reminiscent," Cyrene remarked quietly, noticing Cass's befuddled expression. The Charms teacher had already turned away and was helping another student. Cass briefly turned her head to glance at Cyrene, an idea forming. Quickly, she reached out with her mind, trying to get a vision. _Maybe he was thinking about my parents—if they went here. _Alas, Cass only got the barest glimpse of a green-eyed girl struggling with a spell before it slowly retreated into nothingness, as if the farther away Professor Flitwick walked, the less Cass could See.

Immediately, she felt guilty. _I can't just go around Looking into people's past,_ Cass thought to herself, ashamed. _It's not right._

"Okay, so we learned—thanks to Cass—not to put too much power into a _Lumos _Charm," Cyrene summarized, jotting something—probably her exact words—onto her parchment.

"And to use _Nox," _Brooke added. Cyrene nodded and wrote that down on her parchment as well. Cass copied her, making a silent promise to not Look into someone's past again unless they asked. _Of course, I can't help it if a vision comes out of the blue_, Cass thought, sighing.

The rest of the lesson passed smoothly, and, by the end of it, Cass, Cyrene, and Brooke could cast beautiful _Lumos _Charms (although Brooke had a tendency to shoot blue sparks out of her wand; it was her thing).

As they left the class, Cass thought about telling Cyrene about the secret club. Her hesitation came from the fact that she didn't really know what they were getting into. What if they got caught? _But shouldn't Cyrene make that decision herself? _

"Hey, Cyrene?"

"Yes?"

"Uh…" Cass looked around; there were many teachers and triple the number of students. "Have a good day, and thanks for being in our group." _Maybe I'll just see how the first meeting goes. _

Cyrene smiled. "Thanks, you too. And I like being in you guys' group. It is very…_interesting._"

Cass grinned, thinking of the time Brooke had made vines crawl out of her wand by mispronouncing an incantation. She waved at Cyrene as her and Brooke left to drop their bags off in their dormitory before lunch.

On their way up, Cass and Brooke talked about many things. The conversation ranged from the Gryffindor Goons ("Ugh, don't even get me started on their _hair_," Brooke had said), debates on which classes were the best (Brooke argued that breakfast, lunch, and dinner should _definitely_ be considered a class. Cass had just shaken her head in exasperation), and their favorite Quidditch teams (for this one, Brooke had just rambled on about different teams, leaving Cass confused and overwhelmed. She had insisted they move on to a different topic, as she had no idea what Brooke was talking about. Brooke had just ignored her, continuing her speech).

"And the Tornadoes, they're really starting to get good," Brooke was saying as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"_Quiritus Mimbletonia,_" Cass said, half-focused on what Brooke was saying. Something about winning and Quaffles or whatnot…

Her world tilted sideways and flipped over to a different scene than where Cass actually was.

_A big, carved door stood before her. The Seer distinctly heard a chant of, "I need a place to practice Defense, to practice Defense…" The voice echoed in her head. _

_The doors swung open, revealing a room filled with dummies and books and mats._

_Room…The Room of Requirement. _

_Snap!_ Cass was back, stumbling slightly as she finished her step. "Room of Requirement," she muttered quietly.

"Huh?" Brooke asked, confused.

Cass flopped down on a comfy armchair. "I—uh, I Saw something."

"Ooh! What?"

"I'm not sure. But I think it might help with…you know."

Brooke just stared at Cass uncomprehendingly, waiting for elaboration.

Cass glanced around quickly; they weren't that many people here. "You know? The _club_." Cass's voice was barely audible, but Brooke heard it and widened her eyes.

"What about it?"

"I think I just Saw a place where it could be held. They—" Cass was referring to Harry, Hermione, and Ronald "—still don't have a place. Maybe this is the place."

"Where is it? Did you See where?"

Cass's hopes plummeted. "No," she sighed. "But I would recognize it if I saw it. It was a big, intricately carved door, and there were dummies…mats, and books inside the room. I think."

"You said something else. Uhh…" Brooke thought about it for a second, obviously trying to remember something. "The Room of the Choir!"

Cass opened her mouth, closed it, raised her eyebrows, and narrowed her eyes. Then, she burst out laughing. "The—Room—of—_Choir?_" she choked out, giggling uncontrollably. Maybe it was the sheer randomness of it, or the fact that Brooke had said it so seriously, as if she actually believed that is what it was called, but Cass found it hilarious.

"What? What did _you _say?" Brooke asked with uplifted eyebrows.

This just made Cass laugh harder. "It's—It's called the Room of…the Room of _Requirement. _Ha! The Room of the Choir!"

Brooke blushed. "Oh, well, sor-_ry._ Not all of us can be all-seeing Seers."

"I'm not all-seeing!" Cass clarified. Brooke gave a snort. "I'm _not._ Sometimes, I try to Look and all I get is jack squat. But, anyway, we need to find this Room of Requirement, then we can tell—" Cass lowered her voice considerably "—Harry."

"Okay, how do we find it?"

Cass bit her lip. "Should we ask if anyone has seen a big door?"

"Who?"

"Well, we don't really know any older students, and we can't very well ask just anyone—what if they tell Umbridge?"

"How 'bout we just ask Harry or, uh, Hermy?"

"Hermione," Cass corrected. "Or Ronald, the other prefect."

"We just walk up to them and ask? That sounds pretty awkward to me, Cass."

"Hey, this was your idea. Are you a Gryffindor or not?"

"Okay, let's go," Brooke grumbled.

OoOoO

Cass and Brooke found Ronald walking to the Great Hall alone. It looked as if he was coming back from the loo.

Cass pursed her lips. She knew Hermione—and even Harry, for that matter—better than Ronald. In fact, Cass didn't think she has even talked to him alone.

She walked to the prefect nervously. "Uh, Ronald, right? Can I talk to you?"

Ronald looked around confusedly before finding Cass. His eyes narrowed. "It's Ron," he said. "And, no, I can't get you an autograph from Harry Potter."

Cass narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't going to ask that. If I wanted an autograph—big 'if', by the way—I would just walk up to Harry on my own," she said coolly.

Ron's face turned red with embarrassment before recognition dawned on it. "Oh, you're the Seer. Sorry, it's a reflex." He brightened. "What do you need?"

"Well, I had this vision about a room, a really big room called the Room of Requirement. I thought it might be a good place to…" Cass looked around; no one was near. "To have the, er, club. I—" Cass looked at Brooke. "—_we _don't know anyone else to tell—other than Hermione or Harry, and I don't know where they are."

"Yeah," Brooke agreed.

"_Ohh,_ okay. Where is it?"

"We don't know. I just know that the door is big, carved in a lot of detail, and it's on the inside," Cass described.

Ron sighed. "I don't really remember seeing that anywhere. But I'll ask around. Maybe I've just missed it."

Cass thought that was unlikely, seeing as how he had practically lived in the castle for five years. Judging from his face, Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing. She sighed, too. Cass had been hoping that the older students would have the answers, but Ron had just tramped down on that hope.

"Well, now that you know…'bye," Brooke said awkwardly. Cass gave Ron a small smile before heading to the Great Hall.

OoOoO

"You are so _rude!_" Hermione shrieked at Ron. Harry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

"What?" Ron asked, bits of food flying from his mouth.

" '_I can't get you an autograph from Harry Potter?' _Seriously, Ron?"

"I thought she was some fan, or something!"

"It was Cass!"

"How was I supposed to know? They all look the same!"

"I would think you would recognize her, Ron, seeing as how she looks so much like Harry."

"Coincidence!"

"Doesn't _matter!_ You're a prefect, you shouldn't have said that to a first-year anyway!"

"Can we get to the point, please?" Harry interjected, shaking his head at their argument.

"Yes, of course," said Hermione stiffly.

"Right, the point is: McGarther—"

"—Cass," Hermione interrupted coolly, quirking an eyebrow.

Ron gritted his teeth. "_Cass _said she had a vision about a room. Something about the Room of the Choir."

Harry and Hermione exchanged confused glances. "Room of the Choir?" Hermione echoed, raising her eyebrows.

"Er, no, that wasn't it…" Ron frowned, trying to remember. Suddeny, he snapped his fingers. "The Room of _Requirement!_" he exclaimed, beaming at Hermione. "I'm sure you've heard of it in _Hogwarts, A History _or some other book."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I've never heard of a Room of Requirement. What else did Cass say about it?"

Ron was flabbergasted for a second, mouth opening and closing. Harry could understand; something _Hermione _hadn't come across in all her reading? It was almost unheard of.

Ron found his voice. "Nothing else really, just that it was big and inside the school."

"Well, _that's _helpful," Harry grumbled.

"Yeah, well, it's all she gave me."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I suppose we could ask around, I could say it was for S.P.E.W. or something, so we don't raise any questions…"

A lightbulb went off in Harry's head. "Hermione, that's it! Who knows the castle better than anyone?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "The creatures that spend most of their time cleaning it."

Harry smiled, and next to him, Ron was nodding his head. "I think we ought to pay a visit to Dobby again."

OoOoO

Cass stared gloomily out of the common room window, watching the raging storm outside. After Herbology, she and Brooke had asked Bello, Rose, and Janelle about the Defense club.

Rose had immediately said, "Yes! My dad—" she had choked up. Cass remembered her dad had died in the last wizarding war. "My dad would be so proud—so _proud_ of me for learning it…We may need it." In thinking about her dad, her hair had turned blue and mousy. Cass had given her the sincerest and warm look she possibly could have and squeezed her hand.

Janelle had a different opinion. "I don't know, it sounds like an expulsion waiting to happen. I couldn't do that. I mean, I just learned about magic being _real, _I don't want to do anything to risk making it all go away," she had said. Cass had nodded; she could understand that, being Muggle-born (or just Muggle-raised). But Janelle hadn't Seen Voldemort come back to life. Cass knew she _had _to do this, consequences be damned.

Bello had hesitated. Cass and Brooke watched him mull it over, lips pressed together in thought. Finally, his eyes had hardened, and he had said, "Yes," in a quiet, clear voice. Cass couldn't begin to understand what had given him the edge to his otherwise sweet voice, and she wouldn't Look. She and Brooke had just nodded and moved the conversation to lighter topics that could be discussed in normal tones—not the quiet ones they had been using.

After speaking with the three Hufflepuffs, Cass had gone to ask Sarah. The Slytherin had turned thoughtful. "I think…I think this would be the ultimate disrespectful act towards Umbridge." Her eyes had gotten a cunning gleam in them. "Which means that _of course _I will join this!"

After that, Cass and Brooke had employed the others to lead a search through the school for the massive door. They had spent a whole hour combing the nooks and crannies of Hogwarts to _no bloody avail. _It was this reason that Cass was now gloomily staring out the window.

"Feeling down?"

"May we suggest a day off—"

"—Using our lovely treats to—"

"—Skive off class?"

Cass groaned inwardly at the arrival of the Terror Twins. "No amount of cheesy advertising is going to make me buy those." _Even if I had the money¸_ she added silently to herself.

"Fine, we know something else that will cheer you up," Fred said.

"Something, dare I say it, brother?" George asked with fake reverence.

"Dareth thee, mine twinith." Cass restrained herself from giggling.

"Something even better than our treats."

"No! What could possibly be better than our products?!" Fred asked in mock shock.

"Why, a place to hold secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meetings, of course," the twins finished together.

Cass turned her head quickly to face them. "Really?" she said excitedly.

"Totally."

"Absolutely."

Cass smiled. "Excellent! I have to go tell Brooke!" Cass ran off.

"Oh, to be young and actually eager to learn at school. Don't you miss those days, brother?"

"Hardly, George. Can't miss what you've never had."

OoOoO

Cass watched from an alcove as Bello and Brooke made their way too the space beside Barnabus the Barmy, an enormous tapestry that showed Barnabus attempting to train trolls for the ballet. They walked past it three times, eyes narrowed in silent thought, and stepped through the big door from Cass's vision, just like Harry had instructed.

Next to her, Rose pinched her face and, slowly, her hair turned the same shade of mousy brown as Barnabus's. Her eyes became the same purple as his and her face took on a similar structure to his. She then affected a, well, barmy look, stretching her mouth into a frown and closing her eyes as she raised her eyebrows high. The resulting look had Cass struggling to hold in fits of giggles.

"Ok—let's—go—now," Cass choked out, still laughing as silently as she could (which wasn't very silent at all). They calmly made their way to the other side of the hall, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone was around (there weren't any, but Hermione had insisted).

Inside the Room, there were silk mats, dummies, and bookshelves that lined the walls, with books on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Students from almost all Houses milled around—the absence of any Slytherins stood out starkly to Cass. She pursed her lips; why were wizards and witches so _prejudiced?_ Cass felt a pang of guilt for inviting Sarah as she would most likely be the only Slytherin. The guilt didn't last long, though. Righteousness replaced it as Cass thought, _Let them try to be mean to my friend. _

Cass and Rose made their way to Brooke and Bello. The first-years had gathered in the back, next to one of the large bookshelves. All around, older students were giving them sideways glances.

"Firsties? What is this, some fun learning project?"

Cass bristled. "No, it's a secret, illegal club that teaches people to fight because Voldemort is back. Honestly, keep up."

When Cass had said Voldemort's name, pandemonium broke out. Girls shrieked (and some boys, too). People backed away from her. Even Rose, Brooke, and Bello reacted. Rose winced, Bello whimpered, but Brooke, after gasping, started laughing.

"Only you, Cass," she said, shaking her head.

Everyone turned to face Cass, who squirmed under the attention, wondering how Harry hadn't gone insane. But she held her head high and cleared her throat. "Er…not saying his name just gives him more power…also, You-Know-Who is a bit of a mouthful," said Cass awkwardly, grimacing at the attention.

To Cass's left, Harry coughed. She could swear that it sounded like he was covering up a laugh. "Uh, we have a few more people coming, so—er—feel free to, uh, talk amongst yourselves," he said helpfully.

Brooke was still laughing. Cass stomped on her foot, hard. "Be quiet, this isn't funny. I don't _like _attention," she snapped.

"You sure do have a way of bringing it upon yourself, though," Bello pointed out.

"_Bello!" _Rose exclaimed, smacking her head. "You're so tactless!"

"No, it's true. Hey, Sarah is here!"

The Slytherin came through the door, looking around. Luckily, no one said anything and Sarah walked over to the other first-years in peace.

"Hello, Ms. Sarah," Bello said formally.

Sarah raised her eyebrows but said, "Hello, Bello. How very nice to see you."

While Cass and Rose exchanged confused glances, Brooke snorted. "Merlin, you sound as if you both are having tea with the Queen. Lighten up!" she said.

Sarah smiled. "Hi, guys. So, this is it?" she asked, taking in the room.

"I guess so," Cass replied.

"Ugh, my back is starting to hurt. We need chairs or something," Brooke complained. She practically fell over as one _appeared _behind her.

"What."

"The."

"Fu—"

"Brooke!" Cass, Bello, Rose, and Sarah all said together, stopping her from completing the unprintable word.

"What?! A chair just _poofed _into existence right behind me!" Brooke said, gesturing wildly at the chair.

"Hmm, that was right after you said, 'We need chairs,'" Sarah observed. "I need a…teacup!"

Before the first-years' wide eyes, a teacup appeared on the floor next to Brooke's chair. It was old-looking and chipped, but it was a teacup.

"Wicked!" Rose exclaimed. The rest could only nod their heads in agreement. Before Cass could shout a dozen things, a whistle blew.

"Alright, everyone, listen up! Fred, George, take those fish heads off the dummies!" Harry shouted to everyone. Cass and her friends looked at him eagerly. Her friends seemed as though they were looking at a legend come true before their eyes—Cass supposed Harry _was _a legend, at least, to them.

Soon the room fell silent and all eyes were on Harry. He seemed uncomfortable with all the attention on him, something Cass could relate to. "Right, I've been thinking and—yes, Hermione?"

The bushy-haired girl had raised her hand. "I think we should have a name, something we can say in public and not attract attention, but also one that lets us know exactly what we're talking about." When she was greeted only with blank faces, Cass gave her an encouraging thumbs up. Hermione continued in a small voice, "I just thought that 'secret club' or 'Defense teachings of Harry' seemed a bit obvious—and not befitting of an illegal gathering of students."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I like that idea. Er, any suggestions?"

"Anti-Umbridge League!"

"Ministry of Magic are Morons Group!"

"Defying Dolores!"

"Troubling the Toad!"

"Chudley Cannons 2.0!" Brooke called out. Cass turned to her with raised eyebrows. "What?" Brooke asked. Cass just shook her head and exchanged a giggle with Sarah.

"Maybe something a little less noticeable?" Hermione advised to everyone.

"Defense Association!"

"What about something Umbridge is afraid of?"

"Yeah, what is the toad afraid of?"

_Flicker. _

"_Dumbledore is plotting, plotting against us I say!" a portly man was telling a woman in pink. "Dolores, you must keep him from spreading his lies, and Potter, too. The public cannot know." The man paled. "Because it isn't true!" he said frantically. _

"_May I suggest a spot on the inside?" came a sickly, rotten voice. _

Cass's world snapped back into place. _Umbridge is afraid of Dumbledore…the Ministry is afraid of Dumbledore…_ "Dumbledore's Army," Cass said, surprised when people actually listened to her suggestion.

"I like it," said a sixth-year girl with straight, black hair. Other students were saying similar things. Hermione beamed at Cass, who beamed back at her.

"Okay, all in favor of Dumbledore's Army?" Hermione asked bossily. Many people raised their hands. Fred and George both raised both of their hands.

Harry nodded, looking pleased with the name (though it may have been because some of the attention on him had alleviated). "Right, then. Dumbledore's Army, bane of Umbridge!"

OoOoO


	12. Expelliarmus!

**DISCLAIMER: Yatta, yatta, yatta, you know the drill. Don't own Harry Potter, don't own JKR's series, don't own the Harry Potter movies—wait, I own the disks! Ha! Take that, millionaires!**

**A/N: Hellooo! Over 4,500 hits! This story is growing so very fast right before my wide, happy eyes. Thanks, guys! Reviews are always welcome, but they are not obligatory. However, enjoying this chapter is!**

**Also, I sincerely apologize for the somewhat late update (at least, for me). Things have been really crazy recently (do I really need to elaborate?) and I haven't had as much time to write as I normally do. I know this chapter is a bit on the short side, so, again, I'm sorry. It will not take this long to update again (hopefully). **

OoOoO

"_Right, then. Dumbledore's Army, bane of Umbridge!" _

Cass was surprised that so many people liked the name she picked. Bello flashed her a toothy smile from the mat he was sitting on. Cass shrugged back, looking at the older students.

"So, now that that's all taken care of, we can begin," Harry said to the gathered members. "I reckon we should split into pairs of two—uh, first-years you can have a group of three," Harry directed, noticing the uneven number of first-years. _That was nice of him, making sure we weren't forced to pair up with the older students._ "Right, so I was thinking the first spell we should practice is _Expelliarmus,_ the Disarming Charm. It's basic, I know, but I've found it quite useful—"

"_Expelliarmus?_ You're _joking,_" a fifth—maybe sixth—year was saying as he rolled his eyes. Cass and Rose exchanged shocked and confused looks—this boy came here on his own accord, why was he scoffing at the person that was teaching them? With pursed lips, Cass recognized him as the boy from earlier, the one who had questioned the first-years being here. "I _doubt_ a simple Disarming Charm is going to help us fight You-Know-Who," he continued pompously.

"I've fought with it against him," Harry said in a low voice. "This _simple Disarming Charm_ saved my life last June."

Cass's eyes pricked uncomfortably as a flash of red and a net of gold splashed dizzily behind them. She blinked several times, clearing whatever it was—she assumed it was spellfire from Harry and Voldemort's fight. The vibrant lights fled from her head as Harry said,

"...think it's beneath you, you can leave."

The boy didn't move. Next to Cass, Brooke gave a loud snort—at least, it sounded loud in the silence. Cass shot her an incredulous look from under her eyelashes. She saw Sarah nudge Brooke with her elbow reproachfully.

"Okay," Harry said. "We should pair up, now. I don't want to run out of time—curfew is at nine." Cass had a feeling he was only saying that for the first-years' sake. The older students probably already knew the curfew (Cass did, too, but she was pretty sure Brooke had no idea).

The room was a flurry as everybody got up and paired with their friends. Rose volunteered to be in the group of three and Brooke and Bello joined her. Cass took her wand from her robes and walked with Sarah a little way away from where Rose, Brooke, and Bello were standing.

"Do you know how to cast a Disarming Charm?" Cass asked Sarah, hoping the witch might have been taught by a family member or something.

"Nope," she replied, shrugging.

Luckily, Harry was making his way over to the first-years, gesturing to a fifth-year boy that he would be back. "Okay, I know you guys don't know _Expelliarmus_. You shouldn't—I learned it in second-year," he said to the first-years. "But have you gone over the Knockback Jinx?"

"Only the _theory_," Cass said sourly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, well, Umbridge's 'theoretical lesson plans for exemplary performance'—"

"You forgot pointless," Brooke interrupted.

Harry chuckled, "Right, Umbridge's horrible method of teaching is exactly why this club exists. Anyway, the Knockback Jinx is like the Disarming Charm—at least, the results are similar. What _Expelliarmus _does is disarm your opponent. For some, it just pushes their opponent back a bit. It's meant to dislodge the enemy's wand from their hand—powerful ones can do both of those things." He paused, checking if they were listening; they were. He went on to demonstrate the wand movement and incantation, making them repeat it until they got it right.

"Okay, I'm going to go help my friend practice, so you guys work on it with each other," Harry announced, walking away.

Cass and Sarah faced each other, both looking nervous. Thanks to Umbridge, Cass had never really used any offensive spells and didn't want anything to go wrong. She could tell Sarah felt the same way, but the Slytherin looked determined. "Do you want to go first?" Cass asked.

Sarah nodded. "Sure." She took a deep breath and Cass gripped her wand tighter—tight enough to turn her knuckles white. _Don't let go,_ she told herself. _"Expelliarmus!" _Sarah cried.

The hairs on Cass's arm stood on end and she felt a slight pull on her wand arm, but her wand didn't fly from her grasp. Sarah looked distinctly disappointed in her spell.

"It's okay, most likely no one has ever done it on their first try," Cass said. "Besides, even some of the older students aren't getting it right." A nearby seventh year narrowed her eyes at Cass and she quickly looked away. "My turn!" she said excitedly.

Cass lifted her wand and breathed deeply, trying to find the part of her mind that twitched when she had a vision. Cass grasped it, let it fill her, and yelled, "_Expelliarmus!" _

Sarah's hair flew back from her face, as if a fierce wind had gripped it. Cass felt a warmth in the tips of her fingers. _Whoa._

"Great job!" Sarah encouraged as her hair (now a bit windblown) fell back down to her shoulders. _"EXPELLIARMUS!" _she cried suddenly.

Cass's feet disappeared beneath her and the room spun dizzily as she flew through the air. _I need a mat! _she thought desperately, envisioning a blue cushion.

Cass landed on the mat with a thud and a huff. The wind was knocked out of her, so she took a shaky breath. Then she exclaimed, "That was wicked!"

Sarah came running over to Cass, a look of guilt on her face. She offered her hand to her, saying, "Are you alright? I didn't expect that to happen."

Cass nodded her head and took Sarah's outstretched hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought of needing a cushion and the Room just kinda…did the rest. SARAH, YOU DID IT! GOOD JOB!" she exclaimed, beaming at her friend.

"Nope, I didn't," the Slytherin replied, gesturing at the silver wand still gripped in Cass's hand.

Harry had started going around the room, correcting people, and he was walking over to them now.

"Great job, that was a really good start," Harry commended. "Can I see what you did—er, without the incantation?" Sarah did the wand movement for Harry.

"Okay, that's really close, but try to flick your wrist a little more sharply and bring it into a smaller loop after that," he instructed, demonstrating.

Cass and Sarah copied him—Cass did it even though he had been correcting Sarah, not her. She thought it was good practice.

"Good job, guys," said Harry. He then walked away to go help Brooke, Bello, and Rose.

As soon as Harry left, Cass decided to take a page out of Sarah's book and surprise the Slytherin. She shouted, "_Expelliarmus!" _and used the corrected wand movement Harry had shown them.

Sarah's wand arm gave a sharp tug, and her wand _almost _slipped from her fingers. However, she held on to it tightly as she fell to the ground in a huff.

"You alright?" Cass called, slightly pleased that she had very nearly done the spell correctly.

"Yep! That seemed a lot better; Harry's technique is working," Sarah replied as she picked herself up and brushed her robes off. "_Expelliarmus!" _she cried, a look of intense concentration on her face.

Cass was shoved backwards, sliding on the floor almost as if she were ice-skating before loosing her balance and falling over backwards. She landed on her bum hard, but she picked herself back up and prepared to cast the Disarming Charm again.

And so the time passed in a flurry of flying hair and jerking arms. Cass noticed all of the first-years were having trouble casting _Expelliarmus, _and she blamed Umbridge (even though this _was _a second-year spell). Cass felt her frustration growing until, finally, it happened.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Cass yelled at Sarah, pushing everything she could into it. Sarah's wand flew from her hand into the air and hit the ceiling, a shower of green sparks shooting from its tip. Sarah herself was pushed backwards and landed on her bottom, hard.

Cass just stared for a second, taking in the fact that _she had done it!_ A bright smile flashed across her face before she realized Sarah was still on the ground, an almost cartoon-ish look of shock on her face.

"Oh, sorry, Sarah!" Cass exclaimed, running over to help her up. Cass grinned. "I had to get you back for earlier," she said, referring to the surprise attack Sarah had performed just moments ago.

Sarah grinned back. "You did it!" she told Cass excitedly. Then her brown eyes hardened. "Don't ever do that again," she said with complete seriousness.

Cass snorted, "Uh huh. Don't try to cover it up—you would have done the same."

"Well, my turn to take your wand from _you,_" said Sarah as she picked her wand up from the ground.

The rest of the session passed in a slightly painful exchange of spells between Cass and Sarah. The Slytherin hadn't managed to cast the spell correctly until her fourth try after Cass's first successful one, however she made up for it by constantly knocking Cass back. Cass tried to catch Sarah's wand when it flew from her hands, like how some of the older students were doing.

Harry had continued to walk around and give corrections. Although the first-years had mostly been able to perform _Expelliarmus _(though it took a lot of practicing, since they had never performed any defensive spells before), Harry said that some of the other spells Dumbledore's Army would be reviewing would be much more difficult, so he promised to help them with first-year jinxes next meeting.

Towards the end of the meeting, Hermione suddenly exclaimed, "Harry, have you checked your watch?"

Across the room, Cass saw Harry glance at his watch, surprise flickering across his face. She peered at her own, simple watch; it was almost ten past nine—past curfew for first-years. _Way _past curfew.

A shrill whistle blew across the room. Everyone stopped shouting, "_Expelliarmus!" _and a few wands dropped to the floor, then the students turned their attention to Harry.

"Well, everyone did pretty good," said Harry, "but we've overrun, we'd better head to our dormitories. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" a Gryffindor boy eagerly called out. Cass nodded her head in agreement, and the other first-years were doing the same.

Another Gryffindor objected, saying that Quidditch teams need practices, too.

"Yeah, and the first-years need time for Galloping Gargoyles Club!" Brooke shouted.

Cass gave her an exasperated look from under her eyebrows. "We don't have a Galloping Gargoyles Club," she said dryly.

Brooke shrugged, "I know, I just wanted to be included." Next to her, Sarah was rolling her eyes.

"Let's meet next Wednesday night, then," said Harry diplomatically, "and decide the next meetings there…Come on, we'd better get going…I can already hear the _hem, hem_ if Umbridge catches us…"

Harry withdrew a blank parchment from his robes. Cass gazed at it with curiosity, wondering what it was. Did it teleport people to their dormitories? Did it turn people invisible so they could sneak around?

Harry muttered something at the parchment, and Cass saw it fill up with ink. He didn't offer any explanation, just told everyone to leave in groups of threes and fours. She watched him look at the parchment after the students filed out, telling other students when to go.

Sarah, Rose, and Bello were among the first to leave. Cass and Brooke waved goodbye to them, Cass saying, "Be careful! Don't get caught!"

Most of the Gryffindors waited for the other Houses to leave, as the entrance to their common room was on the seventh floor. While they waited, she and Brooke practiced the Disarming Charm as quietly as they could.

Brooke's wand clattered to the ground as Harry said, "Okay, Cass, Neville, and…Brooke, right?" Brooke nodded. "You guys go together."

Cass picked Brooke's wand up for her and handed it to her. The two first-years walked over to Neville, a fifth-year boy in Gryffindor. Cass stuck out her hand, "Hi, I'm Cass McGarther."

"Neville Longbottom," Neville replied, shaking Cass's hand with a small smile. She recognized the boy as the one Harry had been working with.

Brooke coughed, but Cass, who had heard the girl trying to cover a laugh many times before, saw through it. She shot Brooke a warning look that said, 'Don't even think about making fun of his name.'

Fortunately, Neville didn't notice. "And I'm Brooke Miller," the blond-headed girl introduced herself.

The three left the Room of Requirement. About halfway there, Cass noticed Neville looking at her weirdly. When she asked him about it, he said, "Oh, sorry, it's just…you really do look like Harry."

Cass resisted the urge to sigh. "I know, people say that a lot."

"I'm not just talking about your eyes or your hair…I mean the way you hold yourself. Proudly, but not boastfully…I don't know. I sound stupid, sorry."

Cass thought about what he said with a slight frown. No one had ever put it like that…

They arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. She seemed to look down at the three Gryffindors disapprovingly. "You know, you guys are the third group to come back after curfew…what is going on?" she asked with suspicion.

"Er…" said Neville nervously.

"Nothing. We—" Cass gestured to Brooke and herself, "—got lost a while ago. Hogwarts is so _big_. But Neville found us, I think he was giving something to the prefects…" Cass lied with an innocent face.

The Fat Lady raised a skeptical eyebrow but let them pass after Brooke gave her the password.

Once inside the common room, Brooke burst out laughing. "Cass, that was brilliant!" she exclaimed.

"No, it wasn't. I can't believe we got _lost_," Cass said through gritted teeth, giving a significant look to the people who hadn't gone to the meeting—even though she doubted her housemates would tell on them.

"Uh, right. Thanks, Naval!"

Neville blushed. "It's _Neville,_ Brooke," said Cass wearily, giving the older boy an apologetic look.

"Oh, sorry…"

Back inside the warm tower, Cass finally realized how tired she was. It was probably from all the Disarming Charms she cast, and she dragged her feet up the stairs to her dormitory.

After getting ready for bed and saying a weary, "Hey, Pauline," (to no response), Cass melted into her blankets and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

OoOoO

In History of Magic on Friday, Cass gave a soft, "_Psst!"_ to Cyrene, who sat right next to her in the front. Professor Binns didn't falter in his monotone speech, and the Ravenclaw turned to Cass curiously.

"Okay, can I talk to you after class? It's important," Cass said, not really caring if anyone heard since History was always filled with a low hum of chatter; almost no one ever paid attention to Binns. After going to her first meeting of D.A., she had decided to include Cyrene in it. Cass figured it was something the girl would like, and all the first-years (really _every_ student in the school, thanks to Umbridge) needed help with Defense.

Cyrene looked at Cass interestedly before nodding her head. Both girls returned their attention to the lesson, a difficult task when Brooke was playing with cards that exploded on Cass's right.

After class ended, she quietly explained to Cyrene about the D.A. with Brooke adding something here or there. Cass hoped that the Ravenclaw's love for new, odd things would outweigh her fear of getting caught. To her happiness, Cass's wish came true.

"This is a good idea; it'll be cool to see more advanced spells—or really be able to practice _any _defensive spells," Cyrene said thoughtfully. "But I reserve the right to deny having any connection to this club at all if we get caught," she said seriously.

"Of course—I'll be doing the same if Umbridge finds out. No way I'm losing magic when I've just discovered it," Cass agreed quickly. "But…I think this is bigger than getting expelled or passing our exams. I-I want to—I _need _to be able to defend myself."

Cyrene surprised Cass by saying, "I know what you mean. I—my family and I believe Harry Potter, not the rubbish the _Daily Prophet _is shoving down our throats."

"Hear, hear," Cass muttered as the three first-years headed off to their break period.

OoOoO

During the weekend, Cass and Cyrene decided to do their Charms homework together, and sometime while they were completing it, Sarah joined them.

"So, Sarah, may I introduce Cyrene, new addition to the D.A.—er, our study-in-the-library-club!" Cass said quietly.

Sarah raised her eyebrows at the codename (which wasn't very creative on Cass's part) but smiled at Cyrene. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sarah," the Slytherin introduced.

The Ravenclaw smiled back at Sarah. The three first-years continued their work in silence for a while, quills scratching on parchment being the only sound in their quiet area of the library.

Suddenly, Cyrene said, "Guys, look at this." Cass and Sarah stopped writing at peered at the thick volume Cyrene was showing them.

"_Out of all subjects, Charms is, perhaps, the moste compatible with wandless magick- that is, of course, excluding the arte of Potions, which rarely requires any wand movement. It is common for one to be more adept with this type of magick than with any other area,"_ Sarah read in a whisper.

"I think I've heard of wandless magic. Isn't it really advanced, though?" Cass asked.

"Yeah, my mum says it takes a lot of power—or a _lot _of practice—to be able to do it," Sarah replied, looking at Cyrene with curiosity.

The golden-haired girl was smiling softly to herself. "This sounds really interesting. I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick about it on Monday."

"Good idea," said Cass, giving one last glance at the big book before going back to her homework.

OoOoO

"Professor? I was researching in the library and came across wandless magic. Could you please explain it to us?" Cass heard Cyrene ask the small Charms teacher on Monday. She looked up, as eager as the Ravenclaw to learn about wandless magic. Next to her, Brooke scoffed at their enthusiasm.

Professor Flitwick looked absolutely giddy that a student had asked about this. "Well, certainly, Miss Lyonslatter," he said jovially. Both Cass and Cyrene hurriedly picked up their quills, preparing themselves to write everything down. Professor Flitwick continued, "Wandless magic is a very difficult thing to perform. A wand, as I've said many times before, acts as a channeler. It does all of the reaching for magic for you; all you have to do is provide the power. Therefore, without a wand, the channel to your magic is closed off—meaning it is harder to access."

He paused, letting Cass and Cyrene write that down. Behind her, Cass could hear a couple other students doing the same.

"Wandless magic," the tiny wizard continued, "works best with Charms. Although one must maintain most charms in order to keep them working, it is best for wandless magic because of the very light connection to your magic it requires. Now, the _real _powerful wandless magic would be wandless and non-verbal casting. It demands intense concentration, and quite an ample supply of magic."

Cass raised her hand in the air. Professor Flitwick smiled and said, "Yes, Miss McGarther?"

"Could accidental magic be considered wandless magic? If so, how can young kids do it?" she asked, writing her question down on parchment as she talked.

"Excellent question!" Flitwick commended. "To answer, no, accidental magic is not the same as wandless magic—although neither use wands, there is a big difference between the two. Accidental magic happens in response to one's emotions—it is, as its name implies, purely accidental. Wandless magic is deliberate, therefore far more powerful and concentrated."

"Could we learn wandless magic?" Cass asked with a very hopeful tone of voice.

Professor Flitwick shook his head negatively. "As first-years, no. In fact, the subject is normally not broached in Hogwarts—except for highly dedicated and skilled N.E.W.T. students." At the first-years' confused looks, Professor Flitwick elaborated, "N.E.W.T.'s are a wizarding standard test, and you will be studying for them in your sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. It stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test," he finished.

There were a few giggles at the name. However, Cass and Cyrene looked at each other and grinned eagerly, making Brooke groan and say, "I have a bad feeling that you two are going to be studying wandless magic now."

"Oh, no, Brooke. _We're _going to be studying wandless magic," Cass said mischievously. "In the D.A.," she added quietly, sharing another mischievous smile with Cyrene.

OoOoO


	13. Beginning Wandless Magic

**DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me. But I would be more than happy to take it off her hands…**

**A/N: Helloooo! Wow, over 5,000 hits. And we've reached the 50 favorites mark! Yay! Big thanks to everyone who showed support for this story. Also, many of you may have noticed I posted another story. I just want to say that in no way will that story take priority over this one, nor will it hinder my update rate. Shameless plug: The new story is called**** In a Moment of Need ****and a lot of people like it already, so maybe you will, too.**

**Anyway, I'll get to writing, 'cause that's what we're all here for. **

OoOoO

_Soft, pale hands held a swollen stomach, gently caressing it. The touch seemed to scream love and comfort and peace. The very end of red hair reached the woman's hands, and it, too, seemed to promise safety. _

Cass woke with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. These tears were happy ones, inspired by the sweet vision she had just Seen. Somehow, she knew that those hands belonged to her mother, and Cass felt radiant joy seep through her.

But…

Her vision was saying her mother had cared about her, _loved _her. If that were the case, why had she dumped Cass at the fire station? Her bliss vanished, trickled away like water down a drain. Cass sat up in her bed and looked around wearily, straining to see in the darkness. She had no idea what the hour was, so she stuck her hand through the curtains and reached over to her nightstand, groping for her watch and wand.

Finding both items, Cass whispered, "_Lumos!"_ and was immensely proud to see her wand tip light up. Her roommates wouldn't be bothered as the curtains surrounding the four-poster bed were drawn; no light could escape through its thick fabric. Cass glanced down at her watch, using her wand to see the hands of the tiny clock. It was just past five in the morning.

Cass debated in her head whether to get up or not. Deciding she could use more sleep, she extinguished her light and laid back down, pushing her hair into a fan around her head to keep it from tickling her neck. Even though she knew the feeling must have been false, Cass tried to remember the warmth she had felt during her vision. But she just kept coming back to the undeniable truth: her parents _hadn't _loved her. To Cass's annoyance, tears sprang up behind her closed eyelids. _Stop it, Cass. You don't need their love, you have Grandma's and Grandpa's and that's all you need, _she told herself stubbornly, hating the stupid tears.

After ten minutes of wrestling with herself over whether her birth parents loved her or not, Cass gave up on sleep. Being as quiet as she could, she pulled a sweatshirt on over her nightshirt and made her way over to the door, deciding to draw in the common room to pass the time until breakfast started.

A yellow, pudgy-faced cat greeted Cass in the common room. Smiling, she whispered, "Good morning, Mr. Cat. You couldn't sleep either?" The cat gave a small meow in response. Cass leaned down to pick it up, and the cat pressed itself eagerly into her body. _I hope whoever owns you won't mind, _she thought, gathering the fluffy animal in her arms.

Holding the cat, Cass walked over to one of the tables. Suddenly struck with inspiration, she placed him on the table, murmuring for him to stay still. To her surprise, the cat did, looking at Cass with intelligent eyes. _Okay…_

Cass pulled a thick piece of parchment and a quill from her hoodie's pocket. The only other thing in it was her wand, which she left inside. Realizing the common room was too dark to draw, she walked over to the fireplace and stroked the flames, making them grow in size and in luminosity. Satisfied, Cass walked back over to her place at the table and returned her attention to her parchment. Giving the cat another smile, she set to sketching him, content to sit in the silence until breakfast.

OoOoO

"Harry, can I make a suggestion?" Cass said, trying her best not to shrink back when every one of the D.A. members turned to face her.

"Yeah, of course," Harry said kindly, smiling at Cass.

"Well, we—that is, Cyrene, Sarah, and I—were at the library. And we read something about wandless magic. I know it would be very hard, and it would take a _lot _of practice…but could the D.A. try and learn it?"

"Think about how useful it could be. Like, if we got disarmed or something," Sarah added.

Murmurs broke out amongst the students. Cass hoped they were murmurs of agreement.

Harry looked thoughtful. Hermione gave Cass a proud smile, and mouthed, "Great idea." Cass smiled back at her and waited for Harry's answer.

"I like that idea…but you're right. It would be hard to learn, especially without a teacher—"

"—But the Patronus Charm must've been hard to learn, too!" someone piped in. Cass shot a grateful look in the general direction of the speaker.

"I'm not saying no," Harry clarified. "I think it's a great idea. But I would be learning with all of you guys, so be prepared for a lot of guesswork."

"We need a book on wandless magic," Hermione said suddenly, putting a lot of emphasis on her words.

Next to Rose, a very heavy, very old-looking book appeared. With a bemused expression, the Metamorphmagus picked it up and walked over to Hermione, handing the older girl the book.

"What does it say, Hermione?" Harry asked.

All the students listened to what the bushy-haired fifth-year read. She cracked open the book, waved away the dust that came out of it, and flipped to what Cass assumed was the introduction.

"_Wandless magic is very old—most likely the oldest medium of magic. It was used before staffs and wands were fashioned and before spells were crafted. It is believed by the most prestigious scholars to be the hardest of magics to cast, but our ancestors must have done it without much trouble. _

"_It is perhaps our use of the aforementioned wands—by which I mean our unwavering reliance on them—that makes wandless magic so difficult to master. So dependent of our wands are we that accessing our powers without them requires much concentration, much practice, and much power—" _

"It's cut off by a stain right there," Hermione said with an apologetic look to the crowd.

"That's alright. Just look for some exercises," Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded and flipped to the table of contents. She pressed her pointer finger to the yellowed page and moved it down, her eyes darting around the page.

"Okay, this looks promising…_ 'A Beginner's Exercise.'"_ She found the page and began to read again. Cass made sure to pay strict attention.

"_The best way to access one's magic without the use of a wand is to remember the feeling of casting with one, then trying to regain it. To start, cast a spell with your wand. Immediately afterwards, attempt to cast the same spell without it. Do not expect anything to happen on your first try."_

"Brilliant…er, maybe we should…" Harry trailed off for a second, his features saying that he was thinking. "…we could do this exercise at the beginning—or end—of each meeting, then spend the rest of the time practicing defensive spells?" He ended his suggestion with a questioning tone, asking them what they thought.

Cass liked the idea. She also decided right then that she would do that exercise on her own, too. She knew she could do this, and she would push herself until she did.

Other people seemed to approve of Harry's idea as well.

"Yeah, okay," a redheaded girl said. Cass thought she might be Ron's sister, but she wasn't sure.

"Sounds like a plan to us," the twins chimed in.

"It would be absolutely _brilliant_ to be able to do wandless magic—only really advanced N.E.W.T. students even begin to practice it…"

"I guess it could be useful," the pompous boy—his name was something Smith, Cass recalled—said, but you couldn't mistake the note of eagerness in his voice.

In the end, they decided to have the exercise at the conclusion of each session. "We'll have been doing magic for a while and it'll be fresh on our minds," Hermione had reasoned.

With that all set, Harry had everyone pair up and practice curses. For the older students, he had them practicing something called the Impediment Jinx. However, Harry had the first-years work on the Knockback Jinx, something that did exactly as the name suggested; it knocked one's opponent backwards.

This time, Cass paired up with Cyrene._ "Flipendo!" _Cass shouted, waving her wand.

One loud bang later and the Ravenclaw was on a mat, breathing heavily. "I'm good…that was a really great one, Cass!"

"Thanks!" Cass shouted back, feeling a little guilty. She hadn't meant to put so much power into it.

By the time everyone started to work on the wandless magic exercise, Cass had mastered the Knockback Jinx and was looking forward to begin learning wandless magic.

For this, everyone was working on their own. But all the first-years had clustered together in a corner of the room. Cass thought about which spell she was going to use for the exercise. She considered using Transfiguration, but discounted it, remembering what she had read about charms being the ideal type of spell to use in wandless magic. So far in Charms, they had gone over the Wand-Lighting Charm, the Mending Charm, and the Bluebell Flames Charm. Out of all those, Cass deemed the bluebell flames were her best bet, as the Wand-Lighting Charm required a wand (which just defeated the whole purpose) and the Mending Charm required something needing to be repaired. Besides, out of all the spells she had learned, the bluebell flames were among her favorites, mainly because it was so _wicked _to be holding flames in your hand without getting burned.

So, she held her wand in front of her, sat cross-legged on a mat, and cast the Bluebell Flames Charm. In her cupped hand, a blue fire appeared, warm but not unbearably so. Smiling slightly to herself, Cass tried to recognize the feeling of casting…it was the same feeling she got when she had a vision. She extinguished her flame and placed her wand on the ground. Cass closed her eyes. She muttered the incantation. She pushed power into her palms, both of them.

Something sparked in her hands. Cass's eyes flew open and saw a flash of blue, so quick she wasn't sure it had happened. She looked around; had anyone seen? Maybe they could attest to it…? But, no. Everyone was engrossed in their own practice, most with their eyes closed.

Cass closed her eyes and tried once more. This time, she knew nothing had happened because she had felt nothing, not a spark, not a slight tingle in her fingers, nothing.

She opened her eyes in frustration before taking a deep breath. _Cass, you can do this. _She did the charm with her wand, then immediately tried to do it again without it. Cass was pleased to feel her palms warm slightly, but, admittedly, that could have been her imagination (a thought Cass acknowledged with a small scowl).

After a few more minutes of trying and failing, everyone started to get up, identical looks of dissatisfaction on their faces. Harry pulled out his strange parchment, the same one from the last time. Once more Cass wondered what it did. Maybe she would ask him later.

"Did you guys do anything?" Rose asked amiably.

"Nuh-uh, but it's okay. The book said it would take a lot of practice," Bello replied. Cass tried to see his perspective on the exercise.

Sarah, however, did not. "Nope," she said sourly, spinning her wand between her fingers.

"I don't think anyone did, if that makes you feel any better," said Cyrene, who was examining the bookshelves while a group of Hufflepuffs left per Harry's direction.

Cass brightened suddenly. Something had just come to her. "Guys, I think _we—_us first-years, I mean—have the best chance to get this right," she said.

The others gave her confused looks. Cyrene turned to Cass. "Elaborate," she demanded curtly.

"Well, the book said that those who have come to rely on wands—pretty much every witch and wizard nowadays—will have the most trouble learning wandless magic."

"But we're first-years—we've barely used our wands at all!" Sarah finished, eyes alight with excitement.

"Precisely," Cass said, smiling.

OoOoO

The month of October passed. Every D.A. meeting, Cass and the first-years would learn to cast defensive spells. Simple ones, like the Knockback Jinx and the Full Body-Bind Curse, Cass was able to master fairly quickly. But there was one, the Seize and Pull Charm, that eluded her. So, naturally, this was her absolute favorite new spell.

It did exactly as the name suggested: it could pull objects towards you or latch on to bigger objects—like the ceiling, for instance—and pull _you _towards them. Harry said he had learned it in his third-year, but Hermione thought Cass and the other first-years _might_ be able to pull it off, as the wand movement was simple and the incantation easy to pronounce.

So, Cass had practiced and practiced and (get this) practiced some more. She loved the challenge, but she loved the idea of pulling objects towards her with only a beam of light even more. She thought about the implications of it; one could swing from the ceiling if cast correctly! It was these hopes that pushed her through botched attempt after botched attempt.

As for wandless casting, it was a universal failure for the members of the D.A., but most people continued to try, despite the fact that rarely anything happened. In the five meetings they had been implementing the exercise, there were only two people who managed to do anything. Harry had made a feather float, but the cheers from the other D.A. members had broken his concentration, and he hadn't been able to replicate the feat since. The other person was a fourth-year named Luna Lovegood, and she had transfigured a match into something resembling a needle with a sharp point. She, too, hadn't been able to repeat her accomplishment. Cass noticed, with a little sadness, that not as many people had cheered for her as for Harry, so she had made a point to congratulate her at the end of the session.

Cass worked diligently on the exercise, using different charms in an attempt to outmaneuver whatever it was that blocked her from using magic without a wand. She _knew _she could do it. After all, aren't her visions _technically_ wandless magic? But it wasn't until the Monday before Halloween that it happened.

"Ugh!" Cass groaned, fighting the urge to throw her wand across the room in her frustration. Similar sounds of disappointment were coming from the other first-years, who were all gathered around in a circle.

_Breathe, you can do it,_ a distinctly Grandpa-ish voice told her. Cass did just that. She picked up her wand, closed her eyes, and cast the Bluebell Flames Charm. Still keeping her breathing steady, she dropped her wand and extinguished the small blue fire in her hand. Trying to keep in mind the feel of magic, Cass murmured the spell again.

Warmth spread across her palm. Next to her, Cyrene gave a soft gasp of surprise. Cass opened her eyes. In her hand was a blue fire. It was small and flickered a lot, but it was _there._

"I did it…? I did it!" Cass exclaimed. Just like that, her focus broke and the flame went out in a woosh that left her feeling very tired.

"Good job, Cass!" said Bello, giving her a grin.

"Brilliant!" Rose smiled. Cass returned their grins.

"I don't know, Cass…that flame looked a bit on the small side," Brooke teased. Cass responded by narrowing her eyes.

"That was pretty impressive. Could you tell me exactly how you did it? Were you thinking of a certain thing? Did you say it at a certain volume? The infinite variables alone present a challenging obstacle, you do one thing wrong and nothing could happen…or a great _many_ things could happen all at once…" Cyrene was saying, a questioning look on her face.

"Er, I dunno. Lemme try again, maybe I can pinpoint _exactly _what I did…" Cass replied. Concentrating hard on what she had to do, she tried to cast the Bluebell Flames Charm wandlessly. She was only rewarded with a small blue spark between her fingertips. Cass sighed. "I can't do it anymore. I guess the book was right; it takes loads of practice to do it on command."

"That's okay, you'll get it eventually. We all will," Sarah encouraged. There was no mistaking the resolve in her voice.

While everyone else was leaving the Room of Requirement, the first-years talked about the first Quidditch match this weekend. Cass was excited to see it and wished first-years could play.

"Well, there was one first-year that played. My cousin told me about it, said he is bloody brilliant with a broom," Brooke said when Cass voiced her hopes.

"Really? Who?" Cass asked.

Brooke nodded in the direction of Harry. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Cass said, shaking her head.

"Anyway, who are you guys going to support? Slytherin or Hufflepuff?" Bello asked to Cass, Brooke, and Cyrene, as they weren't in either house. When he finished talking, he levitated a quill with his wand, then tried to do the same without it. It was no surprise to any of them when nothing happened.

"Hufflepuff," said Brooke without hesitation.

"I'll think I'll support Hufflepuff," Cyrene said after considering for a second. Cass noticed Sarah look down in a slightly saddened way. Although Cass knew Cyrene and Brooke hadn't meant to, they had played right into the "Slytherins are bad" mindset.

"I'll support Slytherin," she said. Sarah looked up at her, stunned.

"Really?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, sure. Brooke and Cyrene got Hufflepuff covered, I have Slytherin. Besides, it'll be fun; I'll sit with you and Marcell."

The others stared at her, mouths open. "Honestly," Cass sighed, "it's only fair. And I want to support Slytherin. The Sorting Hat seriously thought about putting me in it; I have loads of ambition." Brooke was looking at her, shaking her head. "Come on, don't go all prejudice on me, now," she added quietly. She knew it wasn't their fault, that they adored Sarah and would never do anything to hurt her, but it must have been a slap in the face to the Slytherin to hear her friends say they wouldn't support her House.

"Thanks, Cass," Sarah said, smiling widely at her.

Cass smiled back just as big. "What for? I told you: I_ want_ to support Slytherin.

Suddenly, Brooke chuckled. "Imagine the looks on everyone's faces when a Gryffindor supports the Slytherin team. Ooh, it'll be _priceless!"_

At that, everyone had to laugh.

OoOoO

The next morning, Cass woke up to the smell of pumpkin pie wafting through her dormitory. Smiling, she stretched and decided right then and there that this was going to be a good day. Halloween had always been special to her—her grandparents had made sure of that. Every year they had a big party with the neighborhood. Although the decorations were cheap and the food a knock-off brand, the day was always filled with fun and scary stories. When she was old enough to hold a pencil, Cass, along with Grandpa Jimmy, would draw on a big piece of paper what costume they wanted. They would plan it all out in extraordinary detail, down to the individual buttons, and paint it afterwards. She was sure her grandparents had a hoard of them somewhere. Gradually, her sketches got better, until even Grandpa Jimmy, a very talented artist in his own right, had admitted defeat and declared her the artist of the family. Cass was fairly certain he was just saying that (any paintings of his would prove this), but every time she thought of it, she would fill up with pride and joy.

Hence, when her, "Good morning, Pauline!" was met with indifference, Cass just shrugged and exchanged bright smiles with Brooke. In the bathroom, she did her hair in an elaborate braid that resembled a spider's web. She even put good use to the first-years latest Transfiguration lesson and turned a hairpin into an orange ribbon. She then wove that through the dark plait and tucked stray curly hairs behind her ears.

At breakfast, the students were treated with a special toast with pumpkin flavored butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar. The ever-present pumpkin juice was still there, along with hot chocolate with delicious orange whipped cream.

"Wow…the kitchen staff has really gone all out," Brooke said, munching on her toast.

"Yeah. This stuff is great," Cass agreed as she tried the hot chocolate. Perfect. She would never say this to her grandma, whose hot chocolate was the envy of the neighborhood's, but this was even better than anything she had ever made. "I can't wait for the Halloween Feast!"

"Reckon what the twins said is true? That there'll be banshees?" Brooke asked.

"Brooke, if the twins said it, it can automatically be counted as lies," Cass said with an air of obviousness.

"But banshees, Cass!"

"But nothing, Brooke! 'Cause that is exactly what it is, nothing!"

Just then, the Gryffindor Goons decided to walk over, much to Cass's and Brooke's annoyance. "Get ready to be blinded by the shine from their hair gel," Brooke muttered.

Cass suppressed a giggle as the three boys sat down next to them.

"Happy All Hallows' Eve, ladies," Jackson—the unspoken leader of the group—said by way of greeting.

"Sorry, I can't hear your through the hair gel—it's a bit thick," Brooke said.

Cass choked on her pumpkin juice. The looks on the goons' faces nearly made her die in laughter, but she reigned it in. "If you'll please leave us to dine in peace," she said as stiffly as possible, surprising herself when there was no trace of humor in her voice.

The three boys looked affronted, and Nick said, "Well, we try to be polite—"

"Give up, then," Brooke said with a final tone of voice. Again, Cass was struggling to hold back laughter at their overly offended expressions.

Before Brooke could do too much damage to their ego, Cass pulled her into a conversation on their favorite classes, pointedly ignoring the first-year boys. As they walked away grumbling, Cass thought, _Good riddance._

OoOoO

That afternoon was DADA, and that meant more fake reading and no wands. Cass sat at her desk, alternating between scanning the page without taking anything in, pretending to take notes while drawing various toad-related pictures, and trying—failing, really—to cast magic wandlessly. To her left and right, Brooke and Sarah were doing similar things.

The spell she was using for the exercise was something they had learned in Charms class yesterday: the Levitation Charm. Hiding her hands behind her desk, Cass attempted to make a small piece of torn parchment float. Of course, she couldn't do the exercise fully, as wands were not allowed out, but she did try and locate her magic. She wondered where in her body it would be. Her head? Heart? Stomach? Legs?

Her efforts were met with nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Whenever she felt close to exploding with frustration, she would do something else. After what seemed like the hundredth try, Cass gave up and looked around the room for something to interest her. Her eyes fell upon a certain princess—Sasha. As always with the pampered Slytherin, she felt a stir of anger. Cass would never forget it was _her_ who tripped Bello on the Astronomy Tower, almost sending him tumbling to his death. She knew that Sasha's intent was to humiliate, not to kill, but she only recognized this in the very back of her head. At the forefront, Cass felt only one thing for the "princess", as Sarah had dubbed her: fury.

So, instead of getting more worked up, Cass chose a different direction to look in. She found herself looking outside at the clear blue sky—perfect weather for a walk around the lake with her friends. It was then she realized she hadn't flipped her page in a while. She frantically turned it, hoping Umbridge hadn't noticed and, if she had, didn't think anything of it.

"Class!" Umbridge called. All at once, everyone's head turned to the toad. Cass heard Brooke stifle a groan behind her.

"I have here an impromptu test on the theory of the Full Body-Bind Curse. Seeing as how you children have been reading the chapter on this for today's class, I expect each of you to receive a passing grade," she said, giving the class her trademark saccharine smile. Cass fought the urge to purse her lips in a disgusted manner.

"Miss McGarther, if you would be so kind as to pass these out?" Umbridge asked sweetly, flashing her teeth.

"Of course, ma'am," Cass replied, equally as sweet. Annoyance flared inside her; this woman was a witch, yes? Cass knew that Umbridge could very well pass out the parchments with a spell, but she didn't. However, Cass hid her aggravation behind a carefully-constructed mask of apathy and walked straight-backed up to Umbridge.

As she handed out the tests, Cass nimbly stepped over Sasha's outstretched foot without even glancing down. Out of Umbridge's view, she smirked at the Slytherin's poor attempt as tripping her. _Honestly, it's like she doesn't know I can See her. _ When she reached Brooke's desk, she gave a smug eyeroll, taking care not to let anyone else see it. In the D.A., the first-years had already gone over it, so this quiz should be easy as the pumpkin pie currently being baked in the school's kitchens. She gave a similar eyeroll to Sarah, and the Slytherin girl responded by giving Cass a small, hidden smile.

Tests all passed out, she sat down in her chair and picked up her quill. The exam was fairly simple, and Cass finished it rather quickly. It asked about the wand movement, the incantation, the end results, and the jinx's history. The only part she really struggled with was the history bit, as the D.A. hadn't gone over that. Luckily, she picked up some facts while staring listlessly at her Defense book, so she wrote everything she could remember down. To fill in the gaps, Cass merely tried to use complex sentences and the fanciest words she could think of, to mask the facts she couldn't recall. In the end, she thought she did well, and turned in the test with confidence.

While she sat waiting for everyone else to finish, Cass doodled idly on some spare parchment. She found herself sketching the beginning of a girl's face. The redhaired girl's face. Possibly her mother's face. She hurriedly scratched this out, not wanting to dive into the deep, complicated emotions that always came with that face right then.

"Miss McGarther, a word if you please?" Umbridge called out, beckoning her with a stubby finger.

Silently, Cass got up and walked over to Umbridge's desk. She felt an odd sense of foreboding, and desperately wished she would get a vision. Alas, her gift was picky about when it worked, and nothing happened.

"I would just like to know, Miss McGarther, how you received an perfect on your quiz when you have been drawing and staring out the window for the entirety of my class," said Umbridge, giving her a tight-lipped smile. Although she was whispering as if to make their conversation private, the class was quiet taking the test, and Cass knew they could hear every word. This irked her, because she knew Umbridge knew it, too.

"No, I haven't, ma'am," Cass replied steadily, surprising herself. Her heart was thumping wildly; what would happen if Umbridge questioned her knowledge? She couldn't very well tell her that she learned the Knockback Jinx from a secret club.

"Then you'll have no problem handing me the parchment on your desk."

"That _is _filled with drawings, ma'am. I was waiting for the other students to finish their tests. I'm sorry if that was wrong to do, I was just unsure of what else to do," said Cass, faking an innocent expression. _Better to get in trouble for that than have her wondering exactly where I learned the spell, if not from the book that I haven't read a line of._

Umbridge made a _tsk_ noise. "Then I wish to see your notes, Miss McGarther. That'll clear this whole business up," said Umbridge in a sugary voice.

Nodding politely, Cass walked back to her desk and opened her backpack. Silently, she fumed. _Why isn't she asking other people for their notes? _Nevertheless, she withdrew a roll of parchment, grateful she kept general notes on most defensive spells for instances just like this one. In the back of her mind, she reflected on how sad that was, that she had to carry around emergency notes to prove to her mean professor that she did nothing wrong (of course, she was in an illegal club, but does that really matter?).

She handed the rolled paper to Umbridge wordlessly, head held high and in the most defiant manner she dared to do. After reading over Cass's notes, Umbridge gave a reluctant nod. "Very well, I see you have adequate notes. I'm curious, though. How did you know to make a small loop with your wand at the end for added strength? I'm certain that wasn't in the textbook."

_Don't crack under pressure, Cass. It's fine._ "I read about it in the library. My grandma always told me it's good to look at different sources when you study," she said smoothly, surprising herself again at how quickly the lie came to her.

Umbridge pursed her lips in an irritated manner, but she obviously couldn't think of any more excuses to get Cass in trouble, for she dismissed her back to her seat. Relieved, Cass mimed wiping sweat from her brow at Brooke discreetly.

OoOoO

Halloween night at Hogwarts was magical, in every sense of the word. Cass could barely contain her excitement as she gazed upon the thousands of live bats, the jack o' lanterns, the eerie candles. All around her, students were muttering happily.

"Wow," Cass said in awe.

"Yeah, wow," said Brooke, eyes wide as the golden plates decorating the tables.

They took their seats with the rest of the Gryffindors at the table. Pauline sat next to them, so Cass did her very best to include the quiet girl. Brooke looked at her with exasperation, but Cass glared at her and then made a point to focus on talking with only Pauline for a while, much to Brooke's annoyance.

The food was delicious, and even Umbridge's unwanted speech regarding how grateful everyone should be that they have such a privileged life, and how wonderful the Ministry is for providing safety and care couldn't dampen Cass's happy mood (although the speech was widely met with stifled scoffs and blatant eye rolls). Halfway through it, she caught Harry's eye. The older boy mimicked a toad ribbitting, which sent her into a silent fit of giggles.

That night, she didn't have any ominous nightmares, only memories of past Halloweens with her grandparents. She also dreamt of Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Jimmy drawing on paper by themselves with bittersweet smiles on their lined faces, as if they were missing her. In the morning, Cass couldn't tell if it had been a vision or just a dream, but she knew one thing: it had been nice seeing her grandparent's faces.

OoOoO


	14. Defying Prejudices

**DISCLAIMER: I haven't got millions to spare in a lawsuit, so I have to say this: I don't own Harry Potter. And, the sad truth is, I never will. Ever. So…fanfiction is a nice substitute. Now, if only I could get paid…**

**A/N: Helloooo! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I am so glad so many people like my writing and please enjoy the chapter—it's a bit of a fun one!**

**Additionally, I have tweaked the Quidditch schedule. In canon, the first match is Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. But, well, this isn't canon, so I guess I have that right. **

OoOoO

The morning of the first Quidditch match had Cass's heart thumping wildly in excitement for the game (and in anticipation for everyone's reactions to a Gryffindor rooting for the Slytherin team, but she wasn't about to admit that). She dressed in her everyday black robes, but instead of a red and gold scarf, she wore a green and silver one Sarah had let her borrow. In her hair, she wove a silver ribbon through intricate braids, and tied the whole thing off with a big green bow. She even got a comment out of Pauline, which was really saying something, as her second roommate _never_ talked.

"That takes balls," she had said.

"It shouldn't; I just supporting my friend's house," Cass replied smoothly.

Pauline had just shrugged and walked out of the room. Cass and Brooke followed her, Cass mentally preparing for the (unjustified) shocked comments from her Housemates.

When she entered the common room decked out in Slytherin's green instead of Hufflepuff's yellow, she received raised eyebrows from everyone except Fred and George, who laughed.

"Slytherin? I think we know what that means, brother," Fred said.

"Had a vision, O' Great Seer? Do the snakes win?" George asked with fake reverence.

"No, I haven't, thank you very much. I'm supporting Slytherin because my friend is in that House and I support my friend," Cass replied, holding her head high.

"But they're _Slytherin!_ That House is full of pureblood fanatics and cheats!" someone exclaimed.

Cass scowled. "Not all of them. Every House has some troublemakers, just look at Fred and George, for example!" Cass said, though she smiled at the twins to take the sting out of her words. In the corner, Harry was giving her a frown, though it was more of a thoughtful one rather than a distasteful one.

"Fred, I'm so offended!" Fred said to George.

Cass rolled her eyes. "Don't try that on me. You're Fred, he's George, and _we're_ leaving," she said. And on that note, she and Brooke stalked out of the Gryffindor Tower, Brooke giving a cheery, "'Bye!" as they went through the portrait.

As soon as the rounded the corridor into the stairwell, Brooke gave a loud laugh. "Cass, you're absolutely _hilarious!_ '_Don't try that on me. You're Fred, he's George, and _we're_ leaving!'" _She pretended to wipe a tear from her eye, still giggling.

"Well, honestly," said Cass, "they act as if being in Slytherin is a crime! If anything, it just makes me happier that I'm supporting them; I'll show 'em. Sarah, Marcell, and I will have loads of fun. It's not like I'm choosing them over Gryffindor! If our House were playing, there's no way I would be cheering for any other House!"

"You finished?" Brooke asked shrewdly.

Cass merely sniffed in response, repositioning her scarf to keep it from scratching her neck.

When they reached the Great Hall, she and Brooke departed, Cass walking over to the Slytherin table and Brooke to the Hufflepuff table. She noticed with some amusement that Rose changed her hair color to a bright, sunshine yellow with black highlights.

Spotting Sarah and Marcell at the end, she made her way over to them. Halfway there, an older girl said, "Hey, aren't you the Seer…in _Gryffindor?_"

"Er, yeah, why?" Cass replied, though she knew exactly why.

A blond boy with Quidditch robes curled his lip. "We don't need Gryffindor charity."

"Good, I'm not offering it," Cass snapped. "If a Gryffindor can cheer for Hufflepuff, why can't one cheer for Slytherin?" By now, many heads were turned her way, so Cass lifted her chin and did her best not to look meek—even if she felt it.

"But—Gryffindors _hate _us, and we them!" someone called out.

"Yeah, and for good reason," the blond boy said.

"Obviously not this Gryffindor," Cass said curtly, walking hurriedly towards Sarah, who was giving her weak thumbs up.

"I know! You've seen us winning!"

Cass turned on her heel sharply and looked at the girl who called out straight in the eyes. "I don't support people because I think they're going to win. I support them because they're my _friends_— and one of my best friends is in Slytherin. So, to heck with stupid prejudices." Cass glanced around the Hall, mouth twisting slightly as she saw almost every eye trained on her. "Oh, and good luck," she spoke to the general direction of the Slytherin Quidditch players. She noticed the blond boy scoff in a disgusted manner. _Can't win them all, _she thought to herself.

Cass sat down between Sarah and Marcell. Gradually, the students found something else to look at, and she felt the pressure of a hundred gazes leave her back. Down the table, though, some older Slytherins were looking at her, some with curiosity, others with poorly concealed malice. At the staff's table, many of the professors were looking at her with something like pride or shock—maybe a combination of both. To her utter befuddlement, both McGonagall and Snape were looking at her with sad looks on their faces. _Maybe they don't want me to be made fun of?_ she wondered to herself. _Well, I don't care. Let people make fun of me. _

Deciding to ignore the confused stares, Cass exclaimed, "Yum! Crepes!" She grabbed a plate and a pair of tongs to pick up the crepes.

"You sure do know how to make an entrance," Marcell told her, shaking his head amusedly.

"What can I say? It's a gift," Cass replied, but inside she was cringing at his comment. She had been expecting this, but it was still a bit disheartening to see everyone react like that.

A few seats down, Sasha was glaring at Cass evilly. _Probably angry I took up so much attention,_ she concluded. She sent a smirk right back at her, hoping it conveyed her dislike for the pampered princess properly.

"Cass, I have this green face paint. I know you like drawing, so would you mind painting a snake on our faces after breakfast?" Sarah asked.

"Not at all, I love the idea!" Cass replied, smiling. She gave her two friends a wicked grin. "I can even put some pigment on Marcell's eyelids," she said.

Marcell shook his head to the side, a warning look on his face. "Nuh-uh. No way."

"Kidding, kidding," Cass said, sharing amused glances with Sarah. The dark-skinned girl pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

After breakfast, they had a little time to spare before they needed to head down to the pitch, so the three first-years headed out to the lake to enjoy the nice, if a little chilly, weather.

"Okay, where do you want me to draw it?" Cass asked Sarah, holding a small paintbrush in one hand and a small tin of green color in the other.

"My cheek," Sarah replied.

Cass set to drawing a coiled serpent on Sarah's face. Every few minutes, Marcell would jump at Cass to scare her, hoping to make her jerk her hand and mess up her work. However, Cass Saw each attack coming and wouldn't even flinch, sometimes managing to bat away Marcell's hand before it got close to her.

After finishing with Sarah, they were joined by Brooke, Janelle, Rose, Cyrene, and Bello.

"Hufflepuff is going to beat your bums!" was the first thing Brooke said as she plopped herself down on the grass next to Sarah.

"Uh huh, we'll see about that. Our team is _wicked _fast," Marcell cut back, smirking proudly.

"Well _our _team is strong, and we've got some pretty great tactics," Rose put in, smiling.

"Wait! _Duh!" _Brooke exclaimed, smacking her hand to her face. "Cass, can't you _See _who is going to win?"

"Er, yeah…but I haven't Looked," Cass replied. "In fact, I'm hoping I don't get a vision about the match. I want to watch it as it happens, not before." She thought about it for a second. "But, once the game gets going, I'll probably get one without trying," she shrugged. Then she gave the group a sly smile. "No way I'm going to tell anyone what I See, though."

Marcell harrumphed in mock outrage, turning his back to face the lake. Janelle snorted a laugh.

Cass smiled as she took out a small silver mirror that Sarah had brought in a leather drawstring bag and handed it to the Slytherin to see her cheek. Their banter was friendly, and it made her happy to see that her friends didn't harbor the same biases as most of Hogwarts.

"Cass, this looks amazing! Thanks!" said Sarah as she admired Cass's handiwork.

"Yeah, no problem. Does anyone want me to theirs? I think Sarah has some black face paint we could use for a badger."

"That depends. Is the paint skin-safe? Are there any toxins? My mum doesn't want me to use anything that might be harmful—" Bello started to say, but Brooke cut him off.

"Bello, it's _face paint._ There's nothing harmful in it!" she said in exasperation.

Cass struggled to hold in laughter, thinking it might hurt Bello's feelings. Instead, she said, "I'm sure it's fine, Bello. If anything happens, tell your mum that it's my fault—or blame Sarah, since it's her paint."

"Cass!"

Cass smiled sheepishly and brandished her paintbrush. "Any takers?"

In the end, she drew badgers on Janelle's, Cyrene's, and Brooke's face. Out of all of them, only Brooke opted to put the badger on her forehead, which turned out looking really strange. After finishing with everyone else, Cass drew a green serpent on her own cheek using the mirror Sarah had brought. By that time, many students were heading down to the Quidditch pitch, and the first-years followed eagerly.

"Well, best of luck to your team!" Janelle called sweetly as the friends split up. Marcell sniggered at her well wishes, so Cass stomped down on his foot, shooting him an irritated glance.

"Worst of luck to your team!" Brooke called after Janelle.

"Sorry, didn't catch that! Just had a vision of us winning!" Cass retorted. She hadn't, but Brooke didn't need to know that.

"Wait—actually?" Rose hollered at her but was swept away by a large crowd of Hufflepuffs.

Before Sarah and Marcell could ask, Cass said, "I didn't, but now they'll be wondering about it the whole game."

Sarah grinned broadly at her while Marcell asked, "What was the Sorting Hat thinking putting you in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin?"

"I dunno, Marcell. Takes a lot of bravery to support us evil Slytherins. Just think about what pranks those two redheads will pull!" Sarah yelled over the crowd of students.

"Don't remind me," Cass groaned as the three began to climb the steps up to the stands. She did her best to ignore the sideways glances most everybody was giving her.

Up in the stands, it was pandemonium. Everywhere, people were talking loudly, each trying to be heard over the crowd—which only succeeded in making the volume rise. Cass shared excited looks with Marcell and Sarah, but it slipped as her eyes pricked.

_A brunette girl in black robes with green accents scowled and pointed her wand at a green-eyed girl with a silver ribbon threaded through her hair. _

Cass sidestepped the jinx Sasha had sent towards her. It hit a fifth-year Slytherin surrounded by a gaggle of other girls. The girl shrieked, and cries of, "Pansy! Pansy, are you okay?" erupted around her. Cass, Sarah, and Marcell quickly hurried away, Cass tossing a smirk over her shoulder at Sasha.

"Cass, you _Saw_ that?" Marcell asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

Cass remembered that he wasn't as used to her gift as the others. "Er, I Saw Princess pointing her wand and just kinda…stepped out of the way."

"Wicked," Marcell said, grinning. "So, are you sure you won't tell us the moment you See the snitch being caught?"

"Yep. I'm not ruining the game for you guys. I just hope my little Third Eye doesn't ruin the game for _me_."

"Do you have any control over it?" Sarah asked.

"Ehhhh, it sort of decides for itself when to work. Sometimes I can give myself a vision, but usually I have to know what I'm Looking for. With the past or the present, I guess it's useful. But for the future, knowing what you're Looking for just defeats the purpose," Cass explained in the best way she could.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Marcell said, but didn't say more as the teams were walking onto the pitch.

The game was very exciting. The players zoomed around the pitch, each team acting as one in the air. The ball—the Quaffle, Marcell had told her—soared over people's heads, just past a player's outstretched hands, through a hoop, and was on the other side of the pitch faster than Cass believed possible. It wasn't five whole minutes before she wished with all her heart that she was out there, flying in the air. Each time Slytherin got the ball through a hoop, ear-shattering screams would erupt around Cass, and she would scream with them, waving a green flag Sarah had scrounged up.

Around ten minutes in the game, people stopped giving her confused glances and started looking at her hopefully. Cass assumed they thought she was supporting them for the win, and she let them. It was better than open hostility. It unnerved her to see some Gryffindors glare at her from their stands, but she tried her hardest to shake it off. _Let them glare. I've done nothing wrong,_ Cass would think to herself every time she caught one looking at her.

Maybe an hour and a half into the game, she suddenly whipped her head to the side, fast enough to put a crick in her neck. At least thirty heads matched her movement, including Sarah's and Marcell's. A glint of gold flashed in the sunlight, and the Hufflepuff Seeker's gloved hand closed around the Snitch. One loud whistle later, and a mass of yellow and black gathered on the ground of the pitch, cheering.

"Aww," Sarah complained.

"Oh, well, that was unexpected. I didn't even see the Snitch until you turned your head, Cass!" Marcell said. Cass shrugged, a little bummed out that Slytherin had lost. Mostly, though, she was surprised she hadn't Seen it coming. Well, not until the very last minute, at least. Maybe it was because she hadn't _wanted _to See it. Cass didn't know.

Shocked faces stared at her. Cass was certain all of Slytherin would have believed they were going to win because she had chosen to support them. "Yeah, that sucks, Sarah," she agreed with her friend.

Everyone started to file out of the stands, most of the Slytherins with a glum expression on their face. Marcell and Sarah, however, had gotten over the loss fairly quickly, and were now chatting with Cass over their favorite moments of the game.

"Well, I liked it when our team did the flock formation—it was nice and intimidating—" Marcell was saying before he was cut off by a whiny voice.

"Why did you even sit with us, McGarther? The whole school knows about your stupid little gift—I'll bet you Saw Hufflepuff winning and decided to give us a bit of false hope. Yeah, I reckon all your little Gryffindor friends are having a nice laugh right about now," Sasha said loudly. Two girls next to her, Abigail Nott and Rebecca Vane—Cass liked to call them Sasha's handmaidens—giggled obnoxiously at Sasha's comment.

Cass looked heavenwards and breathed a long breath in. "I know one Gryffindor who's laughing. Me. At you. And your poor attempt at making me lose my temper," she said coolly, leveling her gaze at Sasha. For the third time that day, Cass smirked at the Slytherin, before slinging her arms around Sarah and Marcell and walking out of the stands.

"It's a wonder Sasha didn't hex you into oblivion. A wonder. You should've seen the look on her face when you said that—priceless!" Sarah sniggered.

"Maybe she learned her lesson from the last time," Marcell theorized.

"Uh-huh," Cass agreed. "That was fun."

Marcell opened his mouth to say something, but there was suddenly a loud cry of triumph and a black and yellow scarf was wrapped around his neck.

"Guess who won? We did!" Brooke whooped, doing a victory dance. Rose, Bello, Janelle, and Cyrene were grinning victoriously. Rose—eyes now an intense violet—bounded over to Cass and twirled her scarf around her neck.

Cass grinned back at them. "Congrats, guys. And Brooke—you're not even _in _Hufflepuff!"

Marcell was now glaring at Brooke and tugging on his scarf distastefully. Brooke shrugged. "So?"

"Well, no way we're losing against you Gryffindors in a couple months!" Sarah said smugly.

"Oh, that's right. Since you guys lost, you have to play against Gryffindor in…January, right?" asked Janelle. Marcell nodded and flung the scarf off his neck. Janelle was smiling happily. "You guys did very well, though. I couldn't believe it when your Keeper blocked the Quaffle upside down!"

"Ah, finally. A humble winner," Marcell said teasingly, giving Brooke a significant look.

Cass's fellow Gryffindor wrinkled her nose. "Whatever. Who wants to walk around the lake?"

The first-years made their way down to the shore of the lake. Brooke and Marcell were well into a debate over which Keeper made more saves and which Chaser made riskier dives by the time they were a quarter of the way around the lake. Cass and the others took turns trying to skip stones across the water. So far, only Cass and Rose had been able to make it jump more than once, and the only thing Bello had managed to do was sink his stone, splashing himself with the lake water.

After a while, Brooke and Marcell had exhausted their Quidditch talk, and Cass and the others had given up trying to toss stones. Cass had gone the farthest, making her stone skip four times (something she was _very _proud of—it was _hard _to skip stones). That was when Rose had suggested that they show Cyrene and Marcell Cass's Guessing Game. It was the game where one of her friends would pick a random object and she would use her gift to guess the object (though it wasn't really a guess) in a blindfold.

"I wonder, could you See us?" Cyrene asked.

"Er, probably," Cass replied.

Marcell grinned. "My dearest Ravenclaw, are you suggesting we play a game of hide-and-seek?"

Sarah was mouthing, "My dearest Ravenclaw?" with a confused look on her face. Cass just shrugged, thinking about how she could use her Sight to find her friends.

Cyrene nodded, "Yeah, we—everyone except Cass, that is—can hide and we'll see how long it takes for her to find us."

"Okay, but what if we took turns hiding? Like one person hides while the rest of us trail after Cass?" Rose suggested.

Brooke immediately said, "I'm going first!" Then her face hardened. "Cass, you can't Look before we go."

"I won't, but I can't help it if I get a vision."

"Can't you try to block it? You said you didn't want a vision about the game, right? Did you get one?" Bello asked.

"Good point. I didn't get a vision about the game—at least, not until the very last second. Maybe there is a way to _stop _myself from getting one," Cass mused. "No harm in trying."

"Okay, so we're going to take turns hiding. Should we time it? See how long it takes Cass to find someone—and whoever it takes the longest to find wins?" Rose clarified, looking at all of the first-years.

"Are you alright with this, Cass? It's your gift," Janelle said kindly.

Cass nodded. "Yeah! I like it, and it's good practice, anyways."

"Yes! Okay, I'm gonna go!" Brooke shouted, already running away from the clustered first-years. Cass quickly hid her eyes in her hands, thinking, _No vision, no vision, no vision._ She repeated this in her head until Sarah told her it was alright to look.

Cass took her hands away from her face, blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes to the sunlight. Brooke was nowhere in sight. "Wow, that was fast," Cass remarked. After giving a quick glance to the others, she closed her eyes. She had never really _Looked _for a person before, so she didn't know what to do. She tried thinking of Brooke, pleased when her eyes pricked and an image filled her mind.

_A young girl with blond hair was laying down, covered by many green plants. A large oak tree stood tall beside her, its branches extending high into the sky. _

Cass opened her eyes and began to scan the landscape, searching for the big tree. The others were being very quiet, but she heard Marcell stifle a laugh.

After a few seconds, Cass located the tree. It was on the opposite side of the lake. "How did she get so far…?" she wondered aloud.

Bello chuckled. "She _ran, _Cass. I mean, _ran_," he said. Cass just shook her head and set off towards the oak tree at a brisk pace. On the way, Marcell told her about how Brooke had run into a bush while sprinting towards her hiding place.

"She was looking over her shoulder, probably trying to see if you were looking. I guess the bush just snuck up on her," he said through much laughter.

"I think a branch snapped. She sort of ran into it, fell on her bum, and then the whole thing just collapsed under her weight!" Rose added, giggling uncontrollably.

Cass laughed with them, imagining the scene in her head. The first-years reached Brooke's hiding place. Cass gestured for them to be quiet and crept up next to the bush. She raised her hand over where she knew Brooke's foot to be and grabbed it, shouting, "BOO!"

Brooke gave a muffled scream. "Cass! I'm gonna kill you!"

Cass was to busy cracking up to reply. The others were similarly occupied, so Brooke had to get out of the greenery without any help. She stood up and tripped over a root, crashing into Bello. Both fell to the ground in a heap.

"Are—you—okay?" Janelle choked out, clutching her stomach.

Brooke got up, red in the face. "I'm fine," she mumbled, brushing herself off. Cass walked over to help Bello up, still laughing hysterically.

"I'm good," Bello said, blushing furiously.

"How did you not hear us, Brooke? We were all talking before Cass gestured for us to be quiet," Cyrene said, a bright smile on her freckled face.

"I dunno. Sound was pretty muffled down there," Brooke replied, shrugging.

"Okay, _my _turn," Rose announced. Cass plopped herself down on the grass and closed her eyes, listening as the Metamorphmagus's footsteps got fainter and fainter.

"Ooh! That's good," Brooke said.

Cass was trying very hard not to think about that comment, knowing she would most likely get a vision. She muttered, "Brooke, it's hard enough to stop it without you saying stuff like that."

"Oh, I'm sure. That's why I said it."

Cass ground her teeth. Suddenly, she gave a fake horrified gasp. "BROOKE, WATCH OUT!" she cried, opening her eyes in a flash and taking her wand out.

Brooke jumped behind the bush, screaming, "What?!" The others were looking around confusedly, but realization dawned on them when Cass started laughing.

"Watch out…for my wrath," Cass said through giggles. Brooke came out of the bush with a comedic look of anger on her face, twigs sticking out of her hair and face smudged with dirt.

"Oh, no! Cass, a monster! Is this what you Saw?" Sarah cried in mock terror.

Cass played along and gave a slight shudder. "Yes…oh, it's so hideous!"

Marcell was rolling on the ground with laughter. Janelle was trying—in vain—to cover her giggles by putting a hand over her mouth. Bello was chortling, but stopped suddenly as Brooke glared.

"Hilarious. Absolutely brilliant," she said grumpily. The badger Cass had drawn on her forehead was now a blob of black face paint.

Cass snorted. "Nice badger."

"Yeah, yeah," Brooke replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Should we—well, mostly just you, Cass—go find Rose?" Janelle asked.

"Yeah, hold on," Cass responded. She reached out with her mind and felt a familiar itch—

_A pine tree stood tall and regal-looking on the shore of a wide lake. High in the tree, a piece of black cloth could be made out…_

Cass snapped back to the present. "How—high—what?" she exclaimed. _Cass, don't make a fool out of yourself. _She gathered her thoughts. Rose was in a tree? But it seemed so high… "She's in a tree?"

"Ha!" Brooke shrieked.

"Yes, we saw her climbing it," Cyrene supplied, but she seemed focused on something else. Cass had a feeling the Ravenclaw was trying to think of a way to outsmart her Third Eye.

"Well, I've always loved climbing trees," Cass said, thinking of her Thoughtful Tree back at home.

"Are we even allowed to climb trees?" Janelle wondered, a frown on her face.

Sarah shrugged. Marcell just said, "Well, I have a motto. Better to ask for forgiveness—"

"—than permission," Cass finished, nodding. Although she wasn't a sucker for trouble, she had plenty of experience…_circumventing _the rules. She was reminded of all the times she had gotten up early and climbed her tree—and how _livid _her grandma would have been if she caught Cass.

"Okay…" Janelle said, still looking very unsure.

So, the first-years made their way over to the tall pine tree from Cass's vision. Casting a quick look around and finding no one, Cass began to scale the tree, thankful for the few low branches that allowed her to scramble up quickly. To her surprise, Marcell followed her. It was when they were about six meters up when they found Rose. The girl had changed her hair to a dark green, and was perched precariously on a thin—too thin, in Cass's experienced opinion—branch.

"Found ya!" Marcell said, gripping the trunk tightly.

"It only took—" Cass began, but stopped on a strangled note, her eyes tearing up hotly.

_A girl with green hair was crouching on a thin wooden branch. Very suddenly, there was a loud crack and the girl vanished downwards, making a choked scream. _

"ROSE!" Cass shouted, bringing her wand out in a flash. Her hands shook, but she made a swish and flick motion with it and gasped, _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ just as the branch snapped. It fell…but Rose didn't, held up by her robes that Cass was now levitating.

A few tense seconds of heavy breathing followed—Cass because holding up her friend was draining, and Rose and Marcell because, most likely, they had no idea what had just happened. If she was being honest, Cass didn't really know either; she had just acted on instinct.

"Bloody hell," Marcell said finally.

Cass's arm sagged. Very quickly, her strength was depleting. "Rose—grab—onto—branch!" she choked out. The Metamorphmagus reached a tentative hand out to the nearest limb and clung to it shakily. Cass cut off the charm with a groan and leaned against the trunk. The branch that had snapped hadn't fully broke away from the trunk—it just dangled at a bent angle.

Cass shook her head. "Let's—let's go down." She could hear the cries of her friends on the ground below. Even in her shaken state, she managed to scamper down the trunk fairly easily, and reached the ground long before the other two. In between gulps of air, she explained to Cyrene, Bello, Janelle, Sarah, and Brooke what had happened. By the time she finished, Rose and Marcell had touched down onto the dirt.

"That was quick thinking, Cass. It was good you levitated her robes and not Rose—you know what Professor Flitwick says about doing that charm on humans, how it's too draining," Cyrene said, giving Cass an encouraging smile. Cass nodded, surprised she had managed to keep Rose hovering for such a long time.

"Yeah, well, I Saw it so…" she said, still breathing heavily.

"Thank you so much, Cass," Rose said earnestly and in a small voice that seemed on the verge of tears. Wordlessly, Cass walked over and embraced her. She wasn't going to say anything, but she thought Rose shouldn't have been that far out. Cass had climbed to the topmost branch of many trees, but she always had a good, sturdy limb to hang on.

"I'm hungry. Lunch is about right now, anyway," Brooke said. Cass shot her a grateful smile for trying to clear the tension.

Bello straightened. "Yeah, me too. Let's go, guys," he said helpfully.

The first-years made their way back around the lake, the mood now slightly dampened. However, Brooke, Bello, Janelle, Sarah, and even Cyrene did their best to lighten it up, making jokes and putting forced skips in their steps. After a few minutes, Cass joined them, thinking, _No point in letting it ruin your day._

At lunch, the group split up, heading off to their respective House tables. Cass noticed the surrounding Gryffindors giving her and Brooke amused looks and wondered about it, but then realized Brooke still had a black smear on her forehead—and quite of bit of twigs in her hair. Once she realized this, Cass couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her lips.

"What? You, too, Cass? I don't need you laughing at me with the rest of 'em!" Brooke exclaimed in indignation.

"Sorry," Cass said (even though she didn't feel all that sorry—it was funny). "Er, you know that badger I drew on your face? The one that got smudged? Well, it's still there."

Brooke grimaced. "Ugh, seriously? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did?"

"_Cass!_"

Cass giggled. "Come on, Miss Inkface. Let's go wash it off," she said, giving her friend a smirk.

Brooke fumed, but said, "Yeah, like we should've done _before _coming here?"

"Well, sor-_ry._ It's your face," Cass retorted, walking out of the Great Hall. From the Slytherin table, Sarah gave an "okay" sign with her hand, Marcell laughing next to her. Cass gave them a bright smile in return.

On their way to the loo, a lightbulb went off in Cass's head. If she could find Brooke and Rose, what was stopping her from finding her birth parents? While Brooke was furiously scrubbing her face, Cass extended her mind outwards, thinking, _parents, parents, parents._ Maybe it was because she didn't know them, but she was met with nothing, just the—admittedly hilarious—view of Brooke with a face full of bubbles. Or maybe she couldn't See them because…Cass didn't finish that thought, instead occupying herself with laughing, for Brooke's face was now stained black.

"Don't see why you're laughing, you've got the stuff on your face, too!" Brooke grumbled, cupping her hands and splashing water on her face.

"Yeah, but I'll just take it off in the shower, with proper facewash. If you want to finish eating, you'll have to walk back into the Great Hall looking like that," Cass said, giving Brooke the sweetest, most insincere smile she could summon.

Brooke scowled and splattered more water on her face.

OoOoO

**A/N (part two): We've hit the thirty reviews mark! Yay! BIG thanks to: **

**BearyBestHugs, LivInspired, Fast Frank, geekymom, Mariposita25, Pupri, eccentricess, Yuuki no Yuki, tiffanythibedeau, and Ciel0714. **

**I appreciate you guys' reviews! There were also a couple reviews signed as "Guest", so, whoever you are, big thanks to you as well! **

**Have a good day/afternoon/night, **

**Inis'sPromise**


	15. Snow Days and Questions

**DISCLAIMER: Look at your copy of Harry Potter. Whose name is at the bottom? Definitely not mine—though mine **_**is **_**inside the cover. Does that count? Sadly, I think not. **

**A/N: Helloooo! I am starting to get frustrated with myself for updating so late. I promised you guys updates every Saturday, and I haven't been true to that promise lately. I'm really sorry, everyone. But I have an excuse: my laptop broke. I would have gone to the repair shop like a sensible person, but, you know, repair shops aren't "essential" (if you don't live in America, that probably won't make much sense to you). So, I had to wait to write and I sincerely apologize.**

**Anyway, we are fast approaching the one hundred favorites mark! I can't believe it has already been over two months since I posted this story. It feels like only yesterday I was writing about Cass almost falling from her Thoughtful Tree…maybe that's because Rose almost fell in the last chapter. Anyway, please enjoy the chapter and, as always, feel free to leave a review! **

OoOoO

It was amazing how vastly the weather could change in a single day. Yesterday, it had been nice, if cold, for the Quidditch match. Now, Cass noticed with excitement, snow was falling to the ground in a gentle flurry. She was sitting on the windowsill in her dormitory, wrapped tightly in a blanket, the cold seeping through from the outside and chilling her bum.

"Brooke!" she called excitedly, looking over to her friend's sleeping form. "It's snowing!"

Brooke grumbled something along the lines of, "Yay…will there be marmalade?"

"Whatever weird dream you're having about jam, wake up from it!" Cass commanded with an air of bossiness before jumping from the windowsill to the floor and putting her heavy blanket on her bed. Cass went to the loo to dress, and when she came out, Brooke was staring around wearily with a red mark on her face. Her hair was sticking up in all directions, and Cass struggled to hold in a laugh, knowing it would only earn her a grumpy earful.

Pauline was in her bed, her hood on her head, and reading a Muggle novel, paying no attention to Cass or Brooke. _Surprise, surprise, _Cass thought. She recognized the book her roommate was reading, though, so she said, "The Hobbit? I love Tolkien."

Pauline made a big show of putting the book down and burrowing under her covers. Cass was used to it by now, so she turned to Brooke, who was stumbling over to her chest of drawers to pull out her robes.

"It's cold outside—snowing, actually," Cass repeated; she didn't think Brooke had heard her earlier.

"Okay…?"

Cass sighed. "So, you might want to put on warm clothes." Brooke was obviously not fully awake yet.

"Got it." Her friend walked to the bathroom, stumbling and yawning loudly.

Cass herself had her most insulated pants on under the standard Hogwarts robes. She had also wrapped a scarf around her neck, and stowed fuzzy mittens in her pockets.

While she waited for Brooke to get dressed, Cass sat on her bed and drew her wand. She peered quickly at Pauline; the quiet girl was under her blankets, bundled so tightly that Cass couldn't see even a sliver of her body. Satisfied Pauline wouldn't see her, she muttered "_Wingardium Leviosa," _moving her wand in a sharp swish before giving it a small flick.

A pillow rose from her mattress into the air, making Cass smile. Immediately, she dropped her wand onto the bed, and the pillow fell with it. "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _she murmured again, focusing with all her might to make the pillow float. It gave a small twitch, and even that may have been her imagination. _Well, fine. Be that way!_ Cass thought to it with a scowl.

Brooke stepped out of the restroom. She was wearing her black robes, a scarf, and a ski cap. All traces of sleep were gone from her face, and she now wore an expression of excitement. "If we have a snowball fight, I'm going to be on your team."

Cass grinned. "I _love _snowball fights!"

A muffled sound came from the ball of blankets where Pauline was isolating herself. It sounded suspiciously like, "Get out!"

"Cass, did you hear that Merlin-awful noise? Should we be concerned something is dying?" Brooke asked with a fake tremor. The two hadn't been on the best of terms ever since Cass stopped Brooke from starting a fight with Pauline.

She shot her friend an exasperated look. "Have a nice day, Pauline. Enjoy your book," she said with sincerity. "And don't mind Brooke—she's a bit cranky in the morning." Not that Pauline didn't know that. They all slept in the same room, after all.

Brooke frowned at her, but followed Cass out the room wordlessly. As they went down the stairs to the common room, though, she said, "Cass, c'mon. It was just a joke!" A pair of fourth-year girls passed them. "And I am _not _cranky in the morning!" Brooke added indignantly.

"Yes, you are," Cass said promptly. "And you shouldn't egg her on like that."

"But the girl's a complete nutcase—"

Cass whipped her head around sharply to glare at Brooke. "Maybe she is going through something!" she snapped. _She probably isn't, but Brooke shouldn't call her that. _

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, maybe." The way she said it made Cass believe that she didn't think that at all.

Deciding to move on to less anger-inducing topics, Cass said, "Okay, you're gonna be on my team. Who else?"

They reached the door leading to the common room. As she opened it, Brooke said, "Rose…and Cyrene, reckon she'll have some sort of elaborate strategy planned out."

"I can strategize," Cass said, feigning hurt.

"Yeah, 'cause you can See what the other team is going to do."

"I could _so_ plan something without Seeing it."

"Whatever, O' Wise One," Brooke mocked, stepping through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I prefer 'O' Wise and Beautiful' actually, if you don't mind," Cass shot back, smiling. "Would you like for Marcell to be on our team?"

Brooke made a face. "Ugh, Mr. Slytherin-is-superior? No way."

Cass pressed her lips together, thinking of how the two had argued yesterday. In truth, she had just suggested the Slytherin boy to get a reaction from Brooke.

In the Great Hall, Cass and Brooke sat down in their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. Spotting Rose, Janelle, and Bello at the Hufflepuff table, Cass waved to them, gesturing to her mittens, trying to say, 'Are you going to go in the snow?'

Janelle seemed to understand. She nodded excitedly and flashed her a smile. Cass gave her the thumbs-up and turned to her food. A loud shriek of, "_Cass!" _made her jump. Without turning around, she knew it was the two fifth-year girls, Lavender and Parvati. If the annoying shriek didn't give it away, the vision Cass received of the two girls did. She groaned and gave Brooke a grimace. Her friend took no notice, as an amused smile was already forming on her lips.

"Cass! Did you predict the outcome of the game yesterday?" Parvati asked earnestly, sitting next to Cass. Lavender dropped down on her other side.

"Only at the end…" Cass replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Merlin! That's brilliant!" Lavender said enthusiastically.

"Yeah…" Cass was thinking hard, trying to come up with a way to make them leave. An idea formed, and she suppressed a grin. "Did you hear?"

Immediately, both girls straightened. "What?" they asked in unison.

"Oh, I thought you knew…" Cass said, shrugging.

"Cass, what do you mean?" Lavender asked, all ears for any gossip.

"No, if you don't know…you'll have to ask someone else, it is not my secret to tell," Cass said, refraining from bursting out laughing at the fifth-year's complete looks of seriousness.

"Cass, you can tell us. We won't tell anybody!" Parvati promised. _Yeah, uh-huh,_ Cass thought.

"No, I promised I wouldn't say _anything_. You'll have to ask around."

Sighing heavily, both girls rose from the bench and walked away, shooting Cass half-sour, half-pleading looks as they went.

"What's the news, Cass?" Brooke asked.

Cass snorted. "No idea."

Brooke gave a loud giggle. "How in Merlin's name did you get into the chivalrous House? Leading poor Larvati and Pavender on a wild goose chase. Shame!"

"_Lavender _and _Parvati_, Brooke. And you can't be talking—you just called our roommate a nutcase!"

"Well, that was only a moment of rudeness…nothing, really…"

"Uh-huh, a moment. You wanted to pick a fight earlier," Cass said.

"Okay, okay, who are we to question the Sorting Hat?" Brooke backtracked. Triumphant, Cass poked her fork through her eggs and took a bite.

After breakfast, Cass made her way over to the Slytherin table to talk to Sarah and Marcell, Brooke doing the same to Rose, Janelle, and Bello. "Good morning, slyest of Slytherins," Cass said by way of greeting.

Sarah laughed. "Please, Marcell couldn't be sly if his life depended on it."

Marcell opened his mouth furiously, but Cass didn't let him speak. "So, we're planning on going out in the snow. Do you guys want to join us?"

"Who's 'we?' Better not be Brooke—" Marcell began, a sour look on his face.

Cass scowled at him. "It _is_ Brooke—and Janelle, Rose, Bello, and Cyrene," she said. He narrowed his eyes at her and turned his head away in an overdramatic manner. Cass spared him no attention. "Sarah, would you like to come?"

"I would. I hope that I have Brooke for a teammate," Sarah replied. Cass shot her a grin as she walked to the Ravenclaw table to invite Cyrene. A sudden prick behind her eyes made her stumble.

_A girl with dark, curly hair was walking down an aisle between two crowded tables. A burst of light raced towards her, erupting out of the wand of a girl with brown hair…_

Cass nimbly stepped to the side, and the Tripping Hex zoomed past her and hit a pitcher of orange juice, splashing the sticky liquid over a poor second-year Hufflepuff. She glanced towards the staff table. Professor Sinistra had a frown on her face, but no one else seemed to notice. Cass turned sharply on her heel and found Sasha looking at her. She gave the Princess a sweet, innocent smile and tapped her temple with her pointer finger. The Slytherin girl looked outraged, and her handmaidens, as Cass liked to call them, were trying to stare imperiously at her. _Princess just couldn't help herself,_ she thought to herself. Sasha had gotten in trouble with the Slytherins yesterday for throwing a curse at one of their fifth-years, Parkinson. Of course, the curse had been meant for Cass. She supposed Sasha was just trying again. _She's going to be trying for a long time._

Cyrene was deep in conversation with a Ravenclaw fifth-year at the Ravenclaw table. Cass recognized the fifth-year from the D.A. meetings, but couldn't put a name to the face. They seemed to be talking about spellcrafting, something Cass knew very little about.

"Er, sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering if you would like to go outside in the snow with us, Cyrene?" Cass said.

"Oh…" Cyrene seemed surprised Cass was there. It took her a second to answer. "…yes!" she said excitedly.

"Great, I'll see you in the courtyard!" Cass said.

Cass walked out of the Great Hall with Brooke, Rose, and Janelle; Bello was going to put on extra robes (something Brooke had teased him about). She took her mittens from her pocket and slid them on. She tied her scarf on tighter and pulled her hair out to spill over her shoulders. Still, when they walked outside, the cold blast shocked her, almost immediately making her shiver and turning her nose into an ice cube. A thick layer of snow covered the ground; there were multiple tracks indented into it.

As soon as Brooke's toe stepped into the courtyard, she kneeled down and began gathering snow for a snowball. She had her eyes on Rose, who was beginning to construct a snowman with Janelle. Cass watched for a second, debating on warning the Metamorphmagus or letting the inevitable snowball fight unfold. But then another option came to her.

She reached into her robes and pulled out her silver wand. She waited for the perfect moment, ready to cast the spell as soon as the snowball left Brooke's gloved hand. Almost…Brooke was drawing her arm back…one more second…NOW!

The icy ball left Brooke's fingers, Cass shouting, "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _at the exact same moment. By some miracle, Cass's spell hit Brooke's snowball, making it stop in midair. Drawn by her yelling, Rose and Janelle turned away form their quarter-built snowman, looks of confusion on their faces.

"Wha-? I—CASS!" Brooke spluttered, whipping her head furiously to glare at Cass. But she wasn't paying attention to Brooke. Her eyes were on the snowball that hovered in the middle of the courtyard. Cass narrowed her brows in concentration, shushing Brooke's angry remark. Fast as can be, Cass let go of the Levitation Charm, casting the Knockback Jinx as soon as possible after. The four first-years watched with fascination as her jinx hit the snowball and made it implode, sending bits of snow in every direction.

"That's not what I wanted to happen," Cass said. "I wanted it to go flying _back _towards Brooke."

Brooke harrumphed loudly, flicking a bit of snow off the shoulder of her robes. "Okay, Cass this isn't the D.—"

"BROOKE!" Cass, Janelle, and Rose interrupted in unison. _That girl is going to get us in trouble one day, _Cass thought, her eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard Brooke almost mention Dumbledore's Army. Thankfully, no one had. The first-years were in a little corner of the courtyard; the cheerful shrieks of laughter coming from the other students covered Brooke's slip.

"—Doom's Day training. Merlin, what is with you guys?" Brooke finished with a fake note of innocence in her voice. Despite her naïve tone, she had a distinct look of guilt on her face.

Janelle, bless her, changed the subject (which probably wasn't necessary as no one was paying attention to them). "Hey, there's Sarah, Marcell, and Cyrene!"

The Slytherins and the Ravenclaw were making their way over to them. Cass heard Brooke mutter, "Stun me now, _please._" She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at her friend's glum expression. She figured now, fresh off stopping her snowball attack, was not a great time to be laughing at Brooke.

"What'd we miss?" Sarah asked as they arrived next to Cass.

"Cass bloody blew up a snowball, that's what," Brooke said huffily.

"How? Tell me your _exact_ wand movement. Or was it a mundane method?" Cyrene demanded.

"Wicked, teach me," Marcell said.

"What…? You guys only left a few minutes before us…" said Sarah, a look of befuddlement on her face.

Cass shrugged sheepishly, but, privately, she found the range of her friends' reactions funny. "I just cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ on it after Brooke threw it towards Rose—"

"Hey, you were chucking snowballs at me?!" Rose exclaimed.

"Not right now, Cass is explaining something important!" Brooke said hurriedly.

"…threw it towards Rose, and then threw the Knockback Jinx at it. I _wanted _it to hit Brooke, but it just sort of…exploded instead," Cass continued.

"Neat!" Brooke said, smiling enthusiastically. Cass wasn't sure if she was just trying to avoid talking about throwing a snowball at Rose or if she was genuinely excited at the thought of making ice shatter. Knowing her friend, Cass supposed it was the latter.

Brooke shoveled snow into her cupped hand, shaped it into a ball, and threw it high up in the air. She aimed her wand at the ascending snowball and fired the Knockback Jinx at it. She missed by a wide margin, instead hitting a stone gargoyle outside the window of the Gryffindor common room. A chunk of rock broke off it and fell to the snow with a soft thud, burrowing deep into the ice. Ron stuck his head out the window, probably wondering what the loud noise had been. The snowball Brooke had thrown landed on his red head, dunking him in icy snow. Even from the courtyard, the first-years could hear the fifth-year's curse.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant, Brooke. You've gone and vandalized school property," Cass deadpanned.

"_And_ hit Weasley," Marcell added, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Well, go on. _You _try, Mr. Big Head," Brooke snapped.

"Big head?" Marcell echoed. "You shouldn't be talking. I'm surprised you found a cap big enough to fit around yours."

"Marcell!" chorused Sarah and Janelle in a very chastising manner.

"Bello's here!" Rose said suddenly. The boy was bundled tightly, and in every way possible. He had on at _least_ two pairs of mittens, three layers of clothing, and two scarves. He also wore pink, fuzzy earmuffs.

"Merlin help us!" Brooke said, bringing her hand to her face.

"Shush, Brooke. Hey, Bello!" Cass said, waving to the Hufflepuff. He made his way over to the gathered first-years, his thick padding causing him to waddle like a penguin. Rose and Brooke were visibly struggling to keep grins off their faces—the corners of their mouths twitched up and down repeatedly.

"Hello, Bello," Cyrene greeted politely. _She _had the decency not to laugh. Bello smiled back at her, but it looked more like a scowl the way his teeth chattered.

All of a sudden, Cass ducked nimbly, and Marcell's snowball flew over her head and hit Brooke square in the face.

"Why you little—" _Splat!_ Another snowball hit Brooke, this time thrown by Rose.

"That's for trying to hit me earlier!" The Metamorphmagus called from behind the cover of her partially constructed snowman. In the blink of an eye, a full-fledged war broke out between the first-years. It was a free-for-all; there were no teams, just pandemonium. Cass managed to dodge _most _of the flying balls of ice, but she couldn't See everywhere at once. Soon, cold snow had wormed its way into her socks and robes, where it was melting uncomfortably.

Somehow, she ended up throwing snowballs with Sarah; they were facing off against Janelle and Cyrene. Poor Bello was somewhere behind Cass, struggling fruitlessly to get up. Bundled up as he was, he didn't seem to have any freedom of movement; he was just waving his arms uselessly.

Cass dodged an ice missile and focused on distracting Cyrene and Janelle while Sarah built up a snow wall to protect them from the cold projectiles. A few meters to the left of Cass, Brooke, Rose, and Marcell were locked in a three-way battle.

The wall was almost as tall as Cass was kneeling down, so she ducked behind it and began to pack snow into it more tightly with Sarah. "Hold on, I'm going to go help Bello!" Cass said. Sarah nodded, breathless and exhilarated.

Cass kept low to the ground as she ran over to Bello. Her fingers felt numb, and she shivered furiously. But she managed to drag Bello to his feet and run back over to their shelter with him in tow. By the time she got back, Brooke had joined Cyrene's and Janelle's team, and Rose and Marcell had joined forces. Both groups were now frantically building shelters of their own. Cass noticed with amusement that Rose had changed her hair to pure white, making it blend in with the snow.

"Bello, try digging into the snow! Like a trench!" Cass suggested, chucking a snowball at Cyrene's golden head. The Ravenclaw was busy throwing a snowball at Marcell, so she didn't see Cass's coming. It hit her, making bits of ice spray all over her hair.

Bello nodded fervently and began to shovel snow away from the ground. Cass and Sarah took the snow he dug up and used it to make another wall of ice to protect the flank open to Rose's team. Her mittens were soaked, but she didn't care. She was having the time of her life.

"Cass, didn't you make a snowball explode with the Knockback Jinx?" Sarah asked suddenly, a devious gleam in her brown eyes. She was eyeing the snow walls the other teams were building.

"Why, yes, I did," Cass replied, catching on.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do…" Sarah explained an elaborate plan to her and Bello, getting hit with snow more than once while she talked. Cass added a few things to it, and Bello suggested something, and then the plan was complete. "So, we're all clear on what to do?" Sarah confirmed once they'd finished plotting.

"Yes!" chorused Cass and Bello.

"On my mark, I can See the best time to do it…" Cass said. After a few seconds of concentration, she shouted, "_Now!" _

Cass and Sarah sent Knockback Jinxes spinning towards the other teams' snow walls. The barricades of snow were shoved backwards by her teammates spells, and it hit the people cowering behind them in a spectacular shower of ice. Then all three of them rushed away from their base and begin sending snowballs in every direction, laughing hysterically and panting hard. The looks of utter shock on the other first-years' faces made Cass double over with laughter, consequently getting her pelted with ice.

The rest of the morning passed with much wetness and flying ice (and quite a bit of laughter, too). At one point, Cass ended up working with Cyrene, and the two of them together came up with such an intricate plan of attack that the other teams never stood a chance. At lunch, everyone sat at the Hufflepuff table. All in all, it was one of the best snow days Cass had ever had.

OoOoO

The month of November passed quickly for Cass. She continued to search for her parents amidst old genealogy books, dusty yearbooks, and through visions that seemed to be coming more and more frequent. She Saw the red-haired girl most often, but, sometimes, she got a glimpse of dark locks that she assumed belonged to her father; they were almost exactly the same shade of hers. In every vision she had of her parents, whether it be while awake or while dreaming, she felt a sense of…missing. It was like the final piece of a puzzle was absent, lost. And throughout the entire month, Cass never found that crucial bit, never seemed to come close. It frustrated her to no end, eventually driving her to take a break from the search, if only for a few weeks or so.

Shortly after the fun-filled snow day, a new teacher arrived. New to Cass, at least. The older students seemed to recognize him. Hagrid was his name, and she had never seen someone so _big._ It made her curious; was he just really large, or was he part-giant? In any case, Cass didn't see him much. He taught an elective called Care of Magical Creatures, which was only available to third-years and up. She thought this was unfair; why couldn't first-years take electives?

Her classes were going well—except for one: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Umbridge seemed to know there was _some_ sort of secret club going on, but she didn't have proof. The entirety of Cass's Defense class was spent focusing on being as innocent and non-suspicious as possible. Sometimes, she braved practicing wandless magic—not really practicing so much as muttering incantations that had absolutely no effect at all. Well, not exactly. One time, she _had _managed to lift something wandlessly. The joyous, triumphant feeling had been dampened slightly by the fact that it had been Umbridge's chair that she levitated. The rest of that class had been filled with the toad interrogating all the students, and it had been all Cass could do not to crack under the pressure. She hadn't practiced wandless magic in that class again, on the off chance it did something.

In D.A., Harry had introduced dueling. He drew two names from a hat, and whoever had their name drawn had to duel. The only catch was that Harry didn't separate the first-years from the older students. He had said, "I know it's not a fair match, but neither is you against a Death Eater." All of the first-years had paled at that, so Harry had hurriedly reassured them that it wasn't likely that a Death Eater would attack a small first-year. But Cass knew it was a possibility and pushed herself that much harder.

She finally mastered the Seize and Pull Charm, a spell that not many other students had bothered to learn. However, she saw the usefulness of it, and it paid off in duels. Her very first one had been against a Ravenclaw named Cho Chang. The older girl had, of course, wiped the floor with her, but Cass had lasted the longest out of all the first-years (something she was very proud of). In the middle of November, Marcell had joined their little first-year group, but, to his dismay, he was far behind everyone except Bello, since he had joined last. That didn't stop him from acting like the best though, something that was met with eyerolls from every other first-year.

The second week of December, Cass heard her name drawn from the hat while doing the wandless magic exercise. Then Harry's name got drawn. "Aww man, I'm gonna get pummeled," she muttered under her breath. Rose gave her a sympathetic look while she stood and walked to the middle of the room.

The Weasley twins were chortling in a corner, watching the upcoming duel with anticipation. _What if I were to hex you, huh? Bet that would wipe those evil smirks off your faces,_ Cass thought towards them. However, she said nothing, just lifted her chin at them and drew her wand.

Harry was drawing his wand. Hermione counted the duel down. "Three…two…one…"

"_Expelliarmus!" _

"_Impedimenta!"_

Cass didn't last five seconds before she hit the ground hard, even though she knew Harry had been holding back. She lay there, sprawled on the ground and panting for breath. For a second, her eyes met Harry's. An electric shock seemed to zap her body, and her vision flickered.

"_Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—" a female voice was pleading._

"_Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" That voice. It was unnaturally cold. Evil. _

_A red-haired girl stood protectively in front of a baby boy, a defiant look on her face, even with that—unnaturalness—near her. Her face…it was so, so familiar…_

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _

_A flash of bright green light arced towards the woman, sending her tumbling to the side. Her scream was cut short, but it still chilled the Seer's bones. The wailing of a baby filled her eardrums and pain erupted in spots of light behind Cass's eyes…_

Cass blinked away hot tears, still on the floor of the Room of Requirement. What had that been? "Cass, are you okay?" Harry asked with a look of guilt and worry on his face. He was extending a hand to her, so she took it and rose shakily to her feet. Her mind was spinning, trying to understand what she had just Seen. The girl…it had been the exact same girl from all of her visions…that was impossible.

"Bloody hell, Harry, take it easy on the poor girl," Ron said, pulling Cass out of her stupor. She glared at the fifth-year; she was not poor _anything._

Harry was still looking at her with concern. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Yeah, fine. I was expecting to be beaten, but jeez, Harry," Cass replied, hoping her voice did not betray the emotions inside her. What those emotions were, she couldn't tell. But confusion was definitely mixed in there somewhere.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Cass. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine, Harry. Don't apologize," Cass interrupted. Her face was starting to go red; she knew she was going to be beat, but not so spectacularly. Embarrassed, she walked back over to the other first-years. She was greeted by Brooke's loud guffawing and Rose's sympathy. She accepted Rose's kind comments with a smile and a shrug, then glared at Brooke until her fellow Gryffindor stopped laughing. Almost.

Cyrene was looking at her with a question clearly written on her face. Cass understood; maybe her tone had convinced most people, but Cyrene knew—or at least, suspected—she had a vision. Cass shook her head, trying to say, 'I don't want to talk about it.' The Ravenclaw seemed to get her message.

Later that night, Cass lie awake in the darkness of her dormitory. Her mind was going in circles and she was completely, hopelessly confused. Of _course_ she knew about Harry's parents' deaths. You couldn't live almost four months in the wizarding world and _not_ know about that fateful Halloween night. She even knew that Lily Potter, Harry's mum, had been a redhead. But she had never made that connection to _her_ red-haired woman. And she wasn't making it now. But why had she been having visions of Harry's mother for the last few months? A small voice in the back of her head whispered the obvious. But Cass shot that down almost immediately, because it was _impossible_. There was no bloody way Lily Potter was her…she didn't finish that thought. Then why did she keep getting visions of her? Why did she feel so connected to her?

Cass slept fitfully that night, and woke up with the same questions bouncing around in her tired, befuddled mind.

OoOoO

**A/N: Hmmmm…strange. What is going on here? If you're reading this in the future, when I have already finished this story, consider yourself lucky—and feel bad for the poor chaps that have to wait for an update. **


	16. Unveiling

**DISCLAIMER: JKR owns Harry Potter. But I own Cass and most of the first-years. JKR gets money—loads of it. But I get no riches. Those are the hard facts, but they keep me from being sued. **

**A/N: AHHHHHH! Over 100 followers! AHHH! Thanks, guys!**

**I'm not going to waste time with a long author's note because this is the chapter where things click into place. But, I just have to point out that I think it's ironic that the turning-point of the story came with this fanfic reaching 100 followers, almost like it is a celebration of hitting that mark. **

**Enjoy!**

OoOoO

The week after the D.A. meeting was a hard one. Cass must've tried to make herself get a vision a hundred times. But her gift stubbornly refused her, which irked her tremendously. Why did it choose not to work _now_? Now, when she needed answers more than ever. She spent her classes speculating on who her mum _really _was. Maybe some cousin of Lily Potter? But that didn't make sense; why would Cass have seen Lily instead of her actual mum? And even the baffling vision hadn't given her the _real_ answer she was searching for: why had her parents given her up?

What was so maddening was that Cass _knew_ the answer was right there, staring her in the face. It was on the very tip-top tip of her tongue, so close, yet so out of reach. She didn't know how she knew, only that she knew. The worst bit was that the obvious answer was quite impossible, yet it was the one that made the most sense. And it didn't make any bloody sense at all. In the middle of the week, she had convinced herself that it was just a coincidence. It _had_ to be a coincidence. Cass was always so mad at all the wizards who were startled to see someone who looked so much like Lily, yet she was doing the same thing. _People can look alike,_ she told herself. And that was that.

Only that _wasn't_ that. In her heart, Cass knew this was no mere coincidence, yet she clung to her explanation, the only explanation that made a lick of sense. She refused to think that it was anything other than a coincidence, because, of course, that was all it was. A coincidence.

In Friday's Potions class, Cass kept shooting glances at Professor Snape. He had a frown on his face, and more than once their eyes met because he would look at her, too. Every time, his mouth would twist sourly and he would look away while Cass held his gaze as evenly as she could. Sarah, her partner, had to keep repeating what she said at least twice for Cass to hear. Finally, the Slytherin had had enough.

"Cass! What is with you today?" she demanded.

"What—? Uh, nothing…" Cass said, tearing her eyes away from Snape. Something told her he knew something—maybe the exact something that so frustratingly eluded her. "Can you add some of that poppyseed? I don't want the flobberworm to overpower the…" she trailed off at the sight of Sarah's stare. "What?" Cass asked.

"Cass, we put the poppyseed in ten minutes ago," Sarah said matter-of-factly, looking at Cass with concern.

"Er, right. I meant the…uh, wiggentree bark."

"Well, go get it. I haven't gotten it yet," was Sarah's curt reply. Cass sighed and stood up from her table. It wasn't fair to Sarah to let her do all the work while she stared off into space. Gathering the bark in one dragonhide-gloved hand, she told herself to pay strict attention to the rest of the lesson.

Cass felt her senses open up in the air of the Potions lab. She supposed it was all the fumes. When she got back, she started to strip the wiggentree bark into neat, smooth bits. For a while, Cass was really focused on her work, and their potion turned the exact shade of purple it was supposed to. But then she caught Professor Snape looking at her again with that unreadable expression, and she ground her teeth in annoyance.

Maybe it was the fumes of all the potions in the room. Or maybe it was Cass's desperation for the truth. But that vital piece of information came to her so suddenly that the glass vial in her hand shattered, either from Cass gripping it too hard or accidental magic, she couldn't tell. She was already in a completely different world.

_A young man with black, greasy hair that hung in his eyes stood outside a door in a dark hallway. A wispy voice came from the crack between the door and the floor. _

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" _

_The man fled from the corridor, taking the vision with him._

_Flicker. _

_A raven-haired man was sitting on a green couch with a red-haired woman. The man looked familiar, like someone the Seer knew, but couldn't quite put a name to in the dream world she currently walked in. He had hazel eyes, and the girl had bright green ones. _

"_Twins?" the man whispered to the woman. A small smile played across her lips, and her eyes watered with joyous tears. "We're having twins! Two! Two beautiful babies, Lily, two! Merlin, two!" the man shouted excitedly, kissing the girl with such tender love the Seer filled up with happiness. _

_Flicker. _

_An old man sat in a large office, a red and gold phoenix perched next to him. A bug-eyed woman was sitting in front of him, babbling incoherently. The old man looked tired, so very tired. Like he was holding the world on his shoulders. _

"_There's been another Prophecy, Albus? What did it say?" another woman spoke up, this one with a very stern and strict look about her. Worry coated her voice. _

"_It might not apply to the Potters, but it fits…it says…" _

_The vision flickered before he could finish, landing again on the young couple from earlier. This time, they were distraught. The man was shouting, "No! We won't! How could you say that? How could we give her up? I—we trusted you, Albus, no!" The wails of two babies made him stop. The red-haired woman was holding two squirming bundles in her arms. Two…why was that odd? The man took one from her, nuzzling it to his face. "You don't even know if the Prophecy is about her," he said in a slightly calmer voice, gently cradling the infant to his chest._

_Flicker. _

"_She will die if you don't…it was foretold." _

"_I can't…" _

"_You heard what it said, James." _

"_I won't. We won't." The voice was firm, unyielding. _

"_It said Voldemort would kill her." That voice was gentle, understanding. And sad, incredibly sad. _

_Flicker. _

_A man with white hair and outlandish robes was holding a baby girl in his arms. A strange watch with a silver chain was clutched in his aged hand. A phoenix was perched on his shoulder, and it seemed to be crying. "It's for the best…it won't be long…you'll be back with them soon…" he murmured gently, tears falling into his silver beard. _

_He tapped his wand to the silver device, and the phoenix burned brightly. A great distance stretched before the Seer—she shuddered inwardly at the sheer impossibility of it. The man, phoenix, and baby were whipped away through time and space. Something happened. The man…he lost grip on the bundle…worlds flashed before her eyes. Images blurred together: a fire station, an elderly pair of hands, a screaming, green-eyed woman, a very sad old man…pain erupted everywhere, driving deep into her skull. Blackness was approaching…a faint voice broke through the cloud of confusion…_

OoOoO

Severus Snape's heart skipped a beat when he saw the glass shatter in the girl's hand, when he saw her tense up. The class fell silent and watched her, and the silence continued for a full five seconds. Then Lily—not Lily, Lily's _dead_—gave a loud gasp.

Immediately, Snape knew it was up, that she knew. And he found he wasn't sad. No, in fact, he felt quite the opposite—he felt _happy _that she knew. But the girl looked far from happy. She looked shaken, only that didn't begin to describe it. She looked as if her whole world had been yanked from under her feet. Guiltily, Snape admitted to himself that it had been.

"Miss McGarther, why do you feel it _necessary _to interrupt my class? And to destroy school property—do not think that I will accept this behavior!" Snape said, his initial joy fading as a hard edge sparked in the girl's eyes—_Lily's_ eyes.

"_You_—" her voice broke. Snape resisted the urge to wince at the accusation in that tone. It was far too similar to Lily's, far too effective in scraping open unhealed wounds. Instead, he made a dangerous gleam fill his eyes, a gleam that made every other student shrink back. But not her. She stared defiantly back at him, meeting his glare—raising it.

Without another word, the girl stuffed her parchment and quill into her bag, blinking rapidly. Snape assumed she was trying to keep tears from falling. To everyone's surprise, including his, he allowed her to sling her backpack over one shoulder and walk out—more like run out. He scowled; he was going to pay for that. What good is a scary reputation if people start to think they can leave whenever they want? Upon thinking this, he told the oafs, "Get back to work, dunderheads," in a very slow tone. Slow, but intimidating.

There was a scuffle of frantic movement, and the class went back to quiet working, except for one student. The girl's friend, a fellow Gryffindor, Miller, was standing at her table in a rebellious manner. Her partner, one his snakes (why he would pair up with a Gryffindor was beyond Snape), kept nudging her with his elbow, but she ignored him, glaring at Snape distrustfully. _Idiot girl_, he thought. "Miss Miller, ten points from Gryffindor, since you find brewing potions _beneath_ you," Snape announced. That roused her, and she began dumping ingredients into her cauldron angrily.

OoOoO

Tears made Cass's vision fracture into pieces, but she managed to stumble through the blur into the bathroom. She dove into a stall, slammed the lid down on the toilet, and sat on it with her knees hugged to her chest. _Breathe, _she told herself. _Breathe. _

She sat there for a few shuddering moments, her breath coming in gasps. Her head was pounding, either from emotional stress or the strong vision. She was choking on her sobs, and her nose was clogged with salty tears. She pressed her palms to her eyelids and forced herself to think it.

_Harry Potter is my twin brother. _

Again.

_Harry Potter is my twin brother. _

Suddenly, several things clicked into place. How she caught Dumbledore looking at her sadly from time to time, the vision triggered by Professor Trelawney chanting, "Born with faces same." It made sense…only it didn't, not really.

It was impossible. It really, _really_ was. But it was the undeniable truth; she had _Seen _it. Not much of her vision had made sense, but Cass knew a few things. 1) Harry was her—twin. 2) Her parents were—her parents had been murdered. 3) Dumbledore had _known._ He had bloody known… 4) She had travelled forward in time. Cass hadn't known that was possible, but that is what had happened.

She made herself repeat those four things in her head again and again until she calmed down a bit. Her breathing steadied, but her fingers remained twitchy and shaky. An image of the dark-haired man—her _father_, James Potter—swam before her eyes. It was when he had nuzzled her tiny infant body to his face. That simple motion brought tears to her eyes as she replayed it in her head a small smile on her face despite everything. It held so much love…but he wasn't even_ alive_ anymore. The whole situation made Cass want to scream.

She picked herself off the toilet seat and exited the stall. Crying there all day wasn't going to accomplish anything. Never mind that Cass didn't know _what _she wanted to accomplish. She splashed cold water on her face and looked at her reflection. Bright red spots dotted her cheeks, and there were fingermarks on her temples from where she had clutched her head. She brought up a mental image of Harry and compared it to her reflection. Thinking about it, there _were_ a lot of similarities. James…her dad…had looked a lot like Harry, or, rather, Harry looked a lot like him. Like an exact copy, except for his green eyes, which she shared with him and their…mum. _My god. _Hers and Harry's noses were the same, but Cass's face was shaped more like Lily's. She let loose a long breath and muttered, "Bloody mother of treacle tarts," under her breath. Tears threatened to spill over again, but she blinked furiously, thinking her tears were stupid and that they were not helping the situation at all. She dried her hands off and left the bathroom…

…only to come face-to-face with Snape.

OoOoO

On his way to the Gryffindor Tower, Harry saw something strange. Snape was leading Cass in the direction of Dumbledore's office. The sour professor had an indifferent look about him, but it was the first-year's face that made Harry stop. She looked…shaken was the word, but it didn't describe her expression nearly well enough. Nevertheless, she walked proud and straight next to Snape, but faltered in her graceful stride when she saw Harry.

Something seemed to squirm inside Harry, telling him a monumental event was about to take place. He felt a deep-rooted nervousness in his gut, but made his way over to Snape and Cass, preparing himself to backtalk the Potions Master.

"This doesn't concern you, Potter," Snape cut, curling his lip.

Cass's face morphed into one of anger. "_Really?_ I think it does concern him. It concerns him very much!" she said. This surprised Harry, seeing her talk back to Snape…and he didn't insult her! He just pressed his lips together and sent a sharp glance to Harry, who was starting to grow worried. _What could make Snape overlook such attitude from a _first-year_?_

A knot of dread forming in his stomach, Harry asked, "What is going on?"

Cass looked away, seeming on the verge of tears. Her face held extreme disbelief on it; she looked numb. It was Snape who answered. "The headmaster will tell you."

Sending questioning looks to Cass, who seemed incapable of speech, he followed Snape up to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle leaped aside immediately, not even waiting for the password. It only served to make Harry more uneasy. Darting ahead of Snape, Cass stomped up the stairs and stormed into Dumbledore's office. Harry only stood in the doorframe agape as Cass started to shout at Dumbledore.

"How could you?! _How could you keep that from us?! _You…_I hate you!"_ she yelled hotly. What had she Seen? What was she talking about?

"Miss McGarther, please listen to me," Dumbledore said, looking heartbroken. Harry's eyes darted from him to Cass to Snape, seeking an explanation.

"Why should I? You—_ripped_—me away from them! From—from—from," Cass's voice was growing softer and softer. "…from Harry," she finished in a whisper.

"Wh-what?" Harry said, utterly confused. Who was 'them?' And he had never seen Cass before Hogwarts—what was she saying, ripping her away from him?

Cass sat down huffily in one of the office chairs and seemed to be trying to collect herself, taking deep, shuddering breaths. "Please—please explain the whole thing. I—I only got bits and pieces…oh, my goodness…" She hid her face in her hands. "Sorry," she said to the headmaster, not sounding very apologetic at all.

"It's—it's quite all right, Miss McGarther," Dumbledore replied. If Harry wasn't mistaken, he seemed to be avoiding looking him in the eye.

Warily, Harry walked over to the seat next to Cass and sat down, dropping his schoolbag on the floor. "Could someone please tell me what's going on?" he asked quietly.

"I will, Harry, but do not interrupt me. That goes for you too, Miss McGarther," Dumbledore replied. He took a deep breath and launched into a tale.

"In the first wizarding war, Lily and James contacted me saying," Dumbledore paused, "…saying they were going to have twins."

Harry's mind seemed to short-circuit. "What?" he gasped. _What? What? What? What? _The word bounced around in his head; it was all he could think of.

"Harry, let me explain. Your parents," he included Cass in his look, "were going to have twins," he repeated, as if making sure Harry got it. "You and Miss McGarther were born on July 31st, 1980. It was a time where Voldemort was at large, killing for fun. Everyone was worried, and your parents went into hiding. Two prophecies were made; one I witnessed myself, and one witnessed by Professor Snape. Both were made by Professor Trelawney.

"One of the prophecies spoke of someone born in the last days of the month of July who could defeat Voldemort. The other was a…warning of sorts. I will show both of them to you now." Dumbledore walked over to where his Pensieve was hidden. Harry barely saw him; he was looking at the small first-year girl next to him. Had Dumbledore gone mad? It was impossible that Cass was his—twin. Impossible. So why did it feel so true?

"Harry, Miss McGarther—may I call you Cassandra?" Dumbledore asked from the hidden alcove.

"Yes, you may," Cass replied coldly. There was still a slightly angry tone to her voice. "Sir," she tacked on, as if it was an afterthought. She got up and moved to the Pensieve, and Harry followed reluctantly behind her. Was there a way he could be dreaming? He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off Cass, the girl who made him marvel at how much she looked like his mother. Could it be true…? His brain didn't seem to be functioning correctly; he just kept repeating the words Dumbledore had spoken over and over in his head.

The silvery-blue glow of the Pensieve illuminated Cass's face, which held a multitude of emotions. There was anger—it was, perhaps, the most dominant—anger, disbelief, sadness…and something else. Like she was remembering something fondly. It occurred to Harry that she must have Seen something. And she believed it whole-heartedly.

Instead of bringing his wand tip to his forehead, as Harry had seen him do before, Dumbledore muttered a string of complicated enchantments. Above his white head, a compartment hidden in the wall sprung open. By way of explanation, he said, "I couldn't let anyone learn of this…even my own mind was not a safe enough place for the information I am about to share with you."

"Information that is _rightfully_ ours," Cass said through gritted teeth. Harry stared at her; the girl was scolding one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and she didn't even bat an eyelash. _If what Dumbledore said was true…we should've been told. _Harry wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but _something_ had been withheld for him. A strong sense of betrayal flooded his mind at the thought of Dumbledore holding something like this from him. _Something like what? That Cass is—somehow, impossibly—my…my twin?_ Harry shook his head.

"Please let me _explain_, Cassandra," Dumbledore said wearily, his face looking to hold an infinite amount of years. Cass's mouth twisted but she didn't say anything. Dumbledore reached up into the concealed compartment and withdrew a small ivory box from it. He opened it up and revealed a velvet-lined interior. There were three vials in it, each containing silver threads. He took one out, and Harry could just make out his surname in neat script. "I will show you both prophecies, and then a few extra memories after. Of your—of your parents." Again, he included Cass in his look. A growing sense of disbelief was starting to numb Harry. His eyes were glued to Cass, and hers to him. Dumbledore had to clear his throat to make them pay attention to the Pensieve, and even then it was an effort to pull his eyes away from her.

"The first was made before you both were born," he said. _Blimey…is this real?_ Dumbledore dumped the vial's contents into the dish, but instead of having to stick their heads in, an image floated above the Pensieve. It was Professor Trelawney, but a younger one. "I was interviewing her for the Divination position at Hogwarts. She didn't seem to have the Gift, but she was descended from a famous Seer, so I indulged her. To my surprise, she made a prophecy, right there in the inn I was meeting her in."

Harry nodded distractedly. Trelawney opened her mouth, but a wispy voice came out instead of her normal one. He shivered; he had only heard this voice once before, in his third-year. It still gave him the chills.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal , but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

"What?" Harry choked out. Unconsciously, his hand flew to his forehead, to his lightning-shaped scar. _Mark him as his equal…_ "What?"

Cass was looking at him with shock. Whatever just happened, she hadn't Seen it—or not all of it. "I—I heard the first part in a vision…but I wasn't really focused on that bit…holy macaroni…" she whispered. Her eyes were on Harry's hand, the one that clutched his scar.

"This—how could you keep this from me? And Cass—DEAR GOD, I HAVE A TWIN SISTER THAT IS FOUR YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME! HOW THE—" Harry said an unprintable word "—IS THAT POSSIBLE?" he exploded, glaring at Dumbledore. Cass seemed emboldened by his outburst for she started shouting at Dumbledore again with Harry. The old man let them, wringing his hands nervously and looking like the guiltiest man alive. _He is! _Harry thought furiously.

For a few minutes, he and Cass screamed insults at Dumbledore—and a few at Snape, who was standing beside Dumbledore's desk. Finally, they calmed down enough to let Dumbledore say, "I get that you are upset, but I am not finished. Let me defend myself, please."

"Defend yourself? _Defend _yourself?" Harry screeched, fingertips growing warm. He could barely think—how was any of this possible? How was he supposed to defeat Voldemort? How could he have a bloody _twin_? It was Cass that brought him out of his rage—if only slightly. She put a hand on his arm and looked at him with big green eyes. Harry shook it off, more from shock than anger. Unperturbed, Cass said quietly, "I want to hear his explanation."

"Thank you, Cassandra," Dumbledore began, but she cut him off.

"How are we supposed to argue with him properly if we don't even know his side?" Cass finished. Dumbledore sighed heavily. Harry nodded tersely, regretting shoving her hand away. It had felt very comforting.

"Now, then. I need to move on to the next prophecy," Dumbledore said. Harry could have been mistaken, but he thought he saw tears glistening in his blue eyes. Another image appeared in above the Pensieve. It was in a hallway of Hogwarts, but this time it was Snape and Trelawney. As they walked past each other, the eerie voice spilled out of Trelawney's mouth.

"_A boy and girl born with faces same, born as the seventh month ends…born with green eyes both, to those who have sparked the Dark Lord's wrath…shall turn the tide of bloody war…both with powers rare and strong…separated by time warped forward they shall be…the girl to die by hands of the Dark Lord if not severed…a boy and girl born with faces same, born to be separated…born to save." _

Harry had not been mistaken; Dumbledore _did _have tears in his eyes. They now fell freely down his face and into his long beard. "It fit your family. Your parents were going to have twins—that is what 'born with faces same' meant. Professor Snape shared this memory with me, and I shared it with Lily and James. They wanted proof the prophecy was talking about you, Cassandra, so—although it was risky—I took James and you to the Department of Mysteries. It's there that all the prophecies are held, and only the person they are about can retrieve them. You were able to touch it…it proved that the prophecy _was _about you and Harry—"

"The Department of Mysteries..." Harry murmured, interrupting Dumbledore. Why did that ring a bell? A memory surfaced in his mind; it was the day of his trial, when Mr. Weasley explained to Harry the door leading to the Department of Mysteries. It was the same door he had been dreaming about for months, leading to the same hallway that stalked his nightmares. "It's in there!"

"What's in there, Harry?" Cass asked. Dumbledore had tensed up and was giving Harry a searching gaze.

"I—er—have been dreaming about a hallway for a while now, only it didn't seem to be _my _dream…I was dreaming of the Department of Mysteries." Harry paused, remembering all the talk about a weapon over the summer at Grimmauld Place. "That's where it is. Whatever Voldemort wants is in there, isn't it?" The way Dumbledore looked down confirmed it. What else was he keeping from him? Harry recalled the old man's warning after his trial. He realized that he must have been talking about Cass—how she was Harry's twin. The thought still sent numbing tendrils down his chest.

"I will get to that another time," Dumbledore said. Snape had gone pale behind the desk. _He knew, too, _Harry thought. "For now, let me finish with this," Dumbledore continued, taking a deep breath. Once again, the image hovering above the Pensieve shifted, this time showing his mum and dad on a green couch.

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his parents. They were distraught, his dad wringing his hands and his mom holding two bundles—he assumed it was him and Cass. By the small sizes of them, they must have been only a few days old. But despite their worn-looking state, he drank in every detail of his parents, trying to imprint their images into his mind. His eyes flashed to Cass, and he realized just how alike she looked to his mother. The same heart-shaped face, the same brilliant green eyes, the same challenging chin. It was mind-blowing. More than that. It rocked his world, turned everything he had ever believed on its head.

"You realize what we have to do, don't you?" the memory-Dumbledore asked, a solemn look on his face.

Lily set her mouth firmly and said, "If you think you can take her away, you're mistaken, Albus." James nodded fiercely next to her.

"No—not take her away, not forever. Just long enough to fulfill the prophecy," Dumbledore replied, eyes begging.

"No," James's tone was absolute.

"If you don't, you are signing her death warrant!" Dumbledore said forcefully. Harry's parents' determined looks wavered.

"What you mean to do—travel _forward _in time—it's impossible! Even with Time-Turners, you can only travel a few hours, and that is _back _in time. Something could go wrong!" Lily said, an edge of hysteria in her voice—still, it was music to Harry's ears.

"Not impossible. I believe there is a way, if Fawkes agrees to help me," said Dumbledore.

"You _believe_? You're not even sure? How could we let you go experimenting on our daughter?!" James exclaimed furiously.

"Listen to me! You heard the prophecy! If we don't, she will _die!_ I don't know how, but it says it as clear as day."

The image faded as James's and Lily's face melted into extreme sadness. The light from the Pensieve faded into a soft glow.

"It was only supposed to be one year. Enough to fulfill the prophecy, then you would be back with them." present-Dumbledore's voice was a whisper. "Only one year. I _promised _them, I _promised_ them. I had everything calculated, I had _poured _myself into the spell. It could only be done once every millennium, it turns out. Even then, it took a miracle to accomplish. And we did it—Fawkes and I, we managed to travel forward. But I—I _lost _you. I didn't mean to, I held you so tightly, but you slipped through my grip…I am so sorry," his voice cracked. Tears tumbled down his lined face, dripped off his crooked nose. It shook Harry to see him like this, so weak-looking, so fragile.

"What happened after?" Cass asked softly, voice trembling. "Didn't anyone else know I had been born? Weren't there records? I can't have just _disappeared_; someone must have known."

Dumbledore took a shuddering breath. "Only those closest to Lily and James even knew they were expecting twins. After I—after I lost you," the words were strained, "your parents told everyone who knew about them expecting twins that only one had survived—Harry."

The world seemed to be crashing down on Harry. Cass was his twin, Cass was his twin. He felt his eyes fill up with tears. He couldn't look away from her, and her face mirrored his own: shocked and disbelieving. Only it was the truth. In a way Harry couldn't put to into words, he knew it was the truth.

"Hey, twin," Cass whispered. Harry choked a laugh and moved his hand through his hair. A small smile danced on her lips, and tears fell down on them.

Harry's face hardened. "Why didn't you tell us? We had a right to know, how could you keep that from me for _five years?_ No, more than that! You were completely capable of telling me while I was at the Dursleys!"

"I—I couldn't let Voldemort find out, I had to protect you, I—"

"No," Cass interrupted coolly. "You were _ashamed _of yourself. Besides, Voldemort'll find out anyway." She seemed surprised by her words, as if they had come out of nowhere. But she said them with conviction.

"How do you know?" Dumbledore asked.

"I just do," was her curt reply.

"Well, I can keep it from him as long as possible. Cass—"

"_Cassandra,_" Cass snapped, as if she couldn't even let him use her nickname.

"Cassandra, you're only a first-year. You can't tell anyone; we can't risk Voldemort finding out—"

"No, no, no, no. You _cannot_ expect us to keep this secret any longer. Sirius, Remus, they deserve to know," Harry interrupted hotly.

Dumbledore sighed in frustration but nodded his head. "Very well. You may tell Sirius and Remus." At Cass's and Harry's pointed looks, he continued, "I will inform the other members of the Order, as well."

"The Order?" Cass wondered.

"The Order of the Phoenix," Harry provided. "It's a secret order that fights against Voldemort." It pleased him that Cass wasn't scared of saying Voldemort's name—or of hearing it.

"Oh…and who are Sirius and Remus?"

Harry had forgotten she didn't know them. "They were my dad's best friends." He frowned. "Er, _our _dad's best friends. Anyway, Sirius is my godfather…is he hers, too?" he asked Dumbledore.

"I don't think so—not legally, anyway. He doesn't even know she's alive," the old man replied.

"And whose fault is that?" Cass muttered, looking angrily at the floor. Her mouth was set in a way identical to the way his mum's had been in the memory. All of a sudden, the tears in Harry's eyes spilled over looking at her. This was his _twin_, his family. And Dumbledore had kept her from him. "You should be ashamed of yourself," Harry told the old man.

"Yes, you should," Cass added.

Dumbledore nodded. "I am," he whispered. "I couldn't let Voldemort find out. And Harry, you said I could have told you about Cassandra before you came to Hogwarts. I couldn't have; I lost her when we were time-travelling. I didn't know where she grew up until the Quill of Acceptance wrote her letter. I only knew her first name—it was embroidered on your blanket, you know," he added to Cass.

"At least they named me," Cass said, wiping her eyes with the hem of her robes. A strangled sound escaped Harry's throat at her heartbroken tone. Fury rose up in him, at Dumbledore for hiding this from them, at Voldemort for killing his parents so Cass would never see them…he sighed heavily. He didn't know how to comfort her, and, besides, anything he did would just feel awkward. They barely knew each other, and they were bloody twins. And she was four years younger than him. And Dumbledore had kept it all from him. His emotions were tangled into a fine mess, and there was no hope of unraveling them any time soon. So how could he possibly help Cass?

"I was so relieved when Professor McGonagall reported that you were indeed Lily's and James's daughter—"

"McGonagall knew?" Cass burst out, surprised. Harry was, too. He would've thought McGonagall would tell them, even if Dumbledore and Snape didn't.

"_Professor _McGonagall, Cassandra," Dumbledore corrected. Cass gave him a flat look that caused him to clear his throat self-consciously. Self-consciously! Dumbledore, self-conscious? Harry didn't know how much more surprise his poor mind could take.

"Then she should be ashamed, too," Cass said while crossing her arms. Harry felt a smile spread across his face at her attitude. The look Snape sent him made it slip slightly, but Harry forced his lips to form a contemptuous smirk, knowing full-well he would pay for it during his next Potions class.

"Is there _anything _else?" Harry asked, letting some of his hurt at being lied to his whole life enter his tone.

"I-yes. There is still the matter of the other prophecy—" the one that said Harry was supposed to kill Voldemort…_bloody hell_… "—and there are a _few_ other things we should discuss."

"A few? You mean this wasn't all of it?" Harry exclaimed incredulously.

"Nothing so monumental as this, I promise, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"Monumental doesn't begin to describe it," Cass grumbled. Harry agreed whole-heartedly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I am sorry."

"I don't care that you're sorry. _I'm _sorry that I didn't know I had a twin sister for my entire life," Harry said, surprised at the acid in his own voice. _He deserves it,_ he thought.

"I can't give you any other explanation than that I did it to protect you," Dumbledore said with an emphasis on his words.

"As if _we_ would tell Voldemort," Cass said accusingly. Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it again. Harry narrowed his eyes; the old man was hiding something. It was then he realized Dumbledore hadn't looked him in the eye once during the entirety of their meeting. It wasn't from shame; Harry had seen him look straight into Cass's eyes. But not his. Anger coursed through his body, but it had lost its punch. Harry was too emotionally drained to feel much of anything right now.

Cass, too, seemed to catch on to Dumbledore's withholding, but, for whatever reason, she held herself back from questioning it. "Can we go?" she asked suddenly.

"Go—? Of course," Dumbledore replied. He glanced at a clock on the wall, then said, "I'm afraid I've made you miss lunch. I can send for the elves to bring something up…?"

"I'm not hungry," Harry and Cass said in unison. Their eyes met for a second, and Cass offered him a tentative smile. Harry smiled back just as slowly.

"You are excused from classes for the rest of the day, by the way. I reckon you two have a lot of catching up to do," Dumbledore said.

"Yeah, we do, thanks to you," Cass said huffily. Her face reddened; for the first time she seemed to get who she was speaking to. But she offered no apology for her disrespect, and Harry didn't think she ever would. Neither would he, for that matter. He didn't think he could ever forgive Dumbledore for this. He hoped Dumbledore never forgave himself as well. That he lived with the guilt for the rest of his senile, manipulating life.

Harry and Cass stepped away from the Pensieve and made their way over to the door, Harry snatching his bag off the floor as he went. Each were looking at the other then looking away quickly. Harry hated the awkwardness of it; he shouldn't feel this uncomfortable towards his own sister. _It's all Dumbledore's fault,_ he thought bitterly. His sister…that was going to take some getting used to. A lot of getting used to. As they reached the door, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"You can…you can tell anyone you would like to," he said slowly. It seemed to take him a lot of effort to tell them this. "But I urge you to be careful who you tell, _please_. If Voldemort were to find out about you, Cassandra…I shudder to think about what he would do. And you're only a first-year—"

"—who can See the future. I can handle myself," Cass cut in sharply. Harry remembered how easily he beat her in their duel the other day—he still felt a little guilty about that. In any case, he didn't believe she could best Voldemort, and the look in her eyes told him she didn't either. Harry guessed she just didn't like being belittled, though.

Without another word, he and Cass left the office. A tense silence stretched between them, and Cass was dry washing her hands nervously. What did they do now?

OoOoO

**A/N (part two): Sooooo…bet you didn't see that one coming! If you don't like Dumbledore's excuse for not telling them the truth, don't worry, there's more to it. I know I titled the chapter, "Unveiling," but not everything has been revealed. Haha…can't give you all the answers in one chapter, can I? I wonder if anyone guessed this would be the outcome—or at least part of it? The clues weren't obvious (other than Cass looking a **_**lot**_** like Harry), but they **_**were **_**there. I think I mentioned there was time-travel in the story in one of the author's notes, and there **_**was**_** the vision Cass had about Trelawney chanting, "Born with faces same." Still, I would be really surprised if someone guessed this. If you did, congratulations! You're a genius—and very imaginative! If not, don't worry; I wouldn't have either. I spent a long time working out the kinks and buried a lot of subtle clues that I would be shocked to see anyone pick up on. **

**Please review! I need to know what you guys are thinking! **

**I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please have a wonderful day/afternoon/night!**

**Inis'sPromise**

**P.S. I am so happy with this chapter! I've read a lot—way too many, in my sister's (wrong) opinion—of very well written books, and sometimes I think that I could **_**never**_** write as wonderfully as their authors. But I am **_**super**_** proud of this chapter. Even if this twist makes the story flop, I wouldn't regret writing it.**


	17. Talking Things Through

**DISCLAIMER: For all the Harry Potters I own, I have a million bucks. Oh wait…no Harry Potters, and **_**definitely**_** no million bucks. **

**A/N: Hellooo! That last chapter sure was interesting, I WiSh mOrE pEoPLe wOuLD rEvIew. Haha, just kidding…but seriously, please tell me if you liked it. It's not even for the review count (though that's pretty great, too), I just want to know if you enjoyed it. **

**Anyway, I hate begging, but I absolutely love writing, and I know—hope—you guys like reading my story. So, I'll just get to that and stop begging for reviews. **

OoOoO

Hermione left the Great Hall with Ron, a worried frown on her face. Harry hadn't shown up at all during lunch. Ron had brushed off her concerned comments, but she still wasn't sure everything was all right. _Ron's brain is completely wired to food, why should he care his best friend is missing?_ Hermione thought sourly, shooting the red-haired boy a glare he didn't see.

"Don't start with me, Hermione. I'm sure Harry's fine; probably took the lunch hour to finish up his Transfiguration essay," Ron said as the two headed up to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve their bags. Maybe he _had _seen the look Hermione had sent him.

"Ronald, you should be more worried about Harry. What if," she lowered her voice considerably, almost to a whisper, "his scar was upsetting him or something?"

"Harry's a big boy, Hermione. I'm sure he can handle whatever it is that's got him skipping lunch," Ron dismissed with a wave of his hand. Hermione pressed her lips together firmly to keep from cutting a snappish remark at him.

As they rounded a corner, they suddenly saw the object of Hermione's worry. Harry was walking with Cass, both of their backs facing Hermione and Ron. She may have been imagining it, but Hermione thought the two were standing rather stiffly. Awkwardly, very awkwardly.

"Oh, Harry!" she called. The two turned around, and Hermione felt herself intake a sharp breath. They had always looked similar, but both Harry and Cass wore the exact same expression of numbness that Hermione was forced to see just how alike they looked. Each had bright green eyes—those seemed a bit disbelieving right now—and the way they held themselves was almost identical. Even their hair was similar, though Cass's was slightly lighter and loads more manageable looking.

Ron and Hermione made a move towards them, but Harry shook his head firmly. Questions of concern died on Hermione's tongue at the look on Harry's face. Either Ron didn't sense the tension in the air, or he chose to ignore it (Hermione was sure it was the former, considering how tactless the boy was) for he asked, "Harry, mate, where were you?"

"I—I was in Dumbledore's office," Harry replied. Hermione could have slapped Ron for the strained look on Harry's face. "I'll…I'll talk with you guys later."

Although she was dying to know what had happened, and why he was with Cass, Hermione restrained herself from asking Harry. She couldn't do it; both him and Cass looked as if one more question might break them.

"Okay…" Hermione said slowly. "Ron, come on. We have to get our bags; class will start soon." Was Harry going to miss class? Professor Flitwick was going over Silencing Charms today… "Come on, Ron," she repeated a bit more forcefully, giving him a small nudge in the direction of the stairs. He had a confused look on his face, and she was sure hers held one similar.

What was going on?

OoOoO

Cass watched the retreating forms of Ron and Hermione with apathy. In the absence of Dumbledore to scream at, shock had replaced her anger. For the love of—of—Cass didn't even _know_ a strong enough curse—she was walking next to her twin brother! And he was four years older than her! And he was the Boy Who Lived. _And he is destined to kill Voldemort or die at his hands_. She stumbled over her foot as her thoughts went wild with numb disbelief.

"You good?" Harry asked.

"No," Cass replied honestly. "You?"

"I don't really know, honestly," was his reply. They reached a stairwell and began to ascend. They were headed to the Room of Requirement. It had been the only place Cass could think of where no one would overhear them trying to work out the mess their emotions were at the moment—and would probably be for quite some time.

The rest of the walk was spent in a tense silence. Cass couldn't keep her eyes off Harry…off her twin. Every few seconds, the truth would hit her, and each time it felt just unbelievable as the first time. Harry was her twin. Her mind couldn't seem to move on from that fact, not even to acknowledge that she had finally found out who her parents were. It was easy to forget about her mum and dad, who were years—_years_ dead (the thought hurt Cass), when she was looking at her twin brother, who was very much alive and tangible.

Finally, they reached the seventh floor. Cass's feet carried her to the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy on their own accord, having gone to D.A. meetings for weeks. _For weeks…_she had unknowingly been attending secret, illegal clubs with her twin brother for weeks—no, months! Fresh tears filled her eyes, so she angrily blinked them away. Now was not a time for tears. Cass was of the belief that tears solved no problems and only made things worse.

"We need somewhere to talk, we need somewhere to talk, we need somewhere to talk," Harry mumbled distractedly beside her. He hadn't needed to say that aloud; Cass knew he was speaking for her, as well.

A door appeared in the blank space opposite the portrait. Preparing herself for the inevitable, stupid tears, Cass followed Harry into the Room of Requirement.

A much different scene than usual greeted her. Instead of training dummies and mats, a nice, cozy fireplace and two fluffy armchairs were set up in a room much smaller than the one the D.A. practiced in. The space was lit by soft candles in brackets on the stone walls. A plush rug covered most of the ground, which was also stone. Wordlessly, Cass and Harry took their seats in each of the armchairs.

"Er…" Harry said awkwardly, moving a shaky hand through his unruly hair.

"Where do we start?" Cass hated the tremble in her voice, and forced herself to take a deep, if not necessarily calming, breath.

"I dunno. Uh, how about…where did you grow up?"

Cass sighed with relief. That wasn't so bad. "I grew up in Whitefield, Manchester with my…with my grandparents." She had almost stopped herself from saying "grandparents" but had continued. However much James and Lily had loved her, Joyce and Jimmy McGarther had raised her. They deserved to be called her family, biological or not. "They're not my biological grandparents, of course, but…they're my family," she added.

"What are they like?" Harry asked.

"They're…wonderful, but that doesn't begin to describe them. Grandma Joyce is the most caring person, and Grandpa Jimmy…well, to call him funny would be the world's biggest understatement," Cass replied, smiling slightly. The thought of her grandparents eased some of the tension in her shoulders.

"They sound amazing," Harry said, smiling, too.

"They are," Cass agreed. "What about you? Where did you grow up?"

Harry's face darkened slightly. "The Dursleys…they're my—" Harry sucked in a breath. "—_our _mum's family. Or, Aunt Petunia is m—our aunt, and Dudley is my cousin. _Our_ cousin, he's our cousin," he said. Every time he had corrected himself, he had flinched. Cass grimaced for him; she was going to have to get used to that, too.

Even though she had a bad feeling she wouldn't like his answer, she asked, "What're…what're they like?" She had a cousin and an aunt. Tiredly, she added it to the mountain of unbelievable things she already had piled in her head.

"They're…not the best," Harry replied. Cass's eyes smarted painfully.

"_Go to your cupboard, freak!" a purple-faced man shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. _

_A small, dark-haired boy flinched back and ran away. Tears flooded down his face, clouding up his round, taped glasses._

With a lurch, Cass's world slammed back into focus. Harry was looking at her oddly, and she realized she must have missed something he said while Seeing her vision. Unwillingly, her eyes filled up with water. How could those monsters have kept Harry in a cupboard? Called him a _freak_? Dumbledore—how could he have allowed Harry to stay there? For the fiftieth time that day, hot anger boiled up inside her at Dumbledore, but she shoved it down forcefully to somewhere near her toes. No use tromping all the way to Dumbledore's office to scream at him some more, not when she had the chance to talk to her twin.

"Cass?" Harry's voice punctured her thoughts.

"Sorry, I, um…" How could she tell him what she had Seen?

"Did you—did you See something?" Harry asked in a voice that said he knew the answer.

"Yes," Cass replied slowly, wincing when his expression turned downcast. "That man was ugly. Whew, did a vein pop in his head? I mean, yeesh." She said in as light a tone she could muster. Cass had a feeling sympathy would only make Harry feel worse.

Surprise flickered across his face, then relief. "No, but it's a miracle one didn't," Harry replied.

Cass breathed out gratefully. Quickly, she decided to change the topic. "You mentioned two people…Sirius and Remus? Were they really—er—dad's best friends?" The word "dad" felt strange on her tongue. Really strange. But not altogether unwelcome.

"Yeah, they were. There was this group, the Marauders, and them, my…our…dad, and—" Harry stopped suddenly, a look of anger flashing across his face. "—and Pettigrew. They were all best friends until…until Pettigrew betrayed my—er, our mum and dad. And me, too, I guess."

"What happened?" Cass asked.

Harry took a deep breath, but his voice still shook when he spoke. "You know that night on Halloween?" The night his—their parents got killed.

"Yes," Cass answered with trepidation.

"Well, we were in hiding. But Pettigrew betrayed us to Voldemort, then disguised himself as a rat for twelve years…the Weasley family's rat." Cass's eyes widened. "They didn't know, obviously. They just thought he was a regular rat. Sirius, my godfather, got framed for betraying us and went to Azkaban—that's the wizard prison, by the way. I found out the truth a couple years ago, when Sirius managed to escape. But he still hasn't gotten cleared, so he is in hiding."

"Sirius Black? The one the Ministry is blaming everything Voldemort is doing on?" Cass asked. Harry nodded, a glum expression on his face. "For the love of treacle tarts, Harry, why is your life story so complicated?"

He cracked a smile. "'For the love of treacle tarts?'" he echoed. "Why do you use food as a curse?"

"Better than using foul language," Cass replied sassily. She blushed and continued, "One time, I picked up some bad words from the telly and started saying them. I was only four, maybe five, but my grandma still made me wash my mouth out with soap. She _said_ it was the same bar my grandpa used to wash himself, but I'm sure she was just saying that. Later, my grandpa told me that if I was going to swear, I might as well use something with value." Cass smiled at the memory. "I immediately said, 'food!' and I've been using it ever since." She laughed, "My grandma got onto him later, saying how he shouldn't have told me that I could swear at all."

Harry chuckled, all traces of anger at Pettigrew gone from his face. "I think it's funny. Also, you used treacle tarts. Why that one?"

"They're my favorite," Cass replied. Harry pressed his lips together in an amused way. "What?" Cass asked.

"They're my favorite, too," he said, grinning.

"Well, then I guess we're twinsies!" Cass said. They both looked at each other, then burst out laughing. That continued for a few minutes, a lot longer than the joke deserved. Cass supposed they were laughing at the sheer impossibility of the situation they found themselves in more than her joke, but she didn't care. Gradually, the laughter subsided into a silence that was loads less tense than before.

"You know, Harry, I hear a lot of strange stories about you," Cass said suddenly. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I mean, you seem to get into a lot a trouble."

"Just a bit," he replied dryly.

"Well, I'm sure what I hear and what actually happened are two different things. Tell me a story," Cass demanded. In truth, she just wanted to keep the conversation going. She didn't want it to lapse back into that uncomfortable silence.

Harry seemed to be on a similar train of thought. "Well, my first Halloween here I got into a fight with a troll…" He launched into a tale of mountain trolls, three-headed dogs, philosopher's stones, and way too many other things. By the end of it, Cass's eyes felt like they were popping out of her head, and her right eye had a nasty ache behind it (throughout the storytelling, she had experienced many visions, sometimes showing the exact scenes Harry was describing).

"You mean to tell me all that happened in _one_ year? Just one?" Cass asked, incredulous. "Again, why is your life so complicated?"

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "I've been asking myself that question for four and a half years. But," he said, "this one takes the cake."

"Even after…even after Voldemort?" Cass asked.

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. Cass didn't know whether to be happy or sad about that. "It's also the best surprise so far," he said softly, shyly. Almost like he was trying something out. After a second, he nodded his head, apparently agreeing with himself.

Cass thought about that. Out of all the surprises in her life, she found that she agreed with Harry; this one was the biggest…and the best. Finding out she was a witch had been great, but there had always been a part of her that had known, however small that part had been. Out of nowhere, an idea came to her. Silently, she asked the room for a parchment and a pencil; a pencil still felt more natural in her hand than a quill. Realizing she had nowhere to draw, she also asked the room for a table. All three items appeared simultaneously, the pencil and parchment on top of the small wooden table. Ignoring the questioning look on Harry's face, Cass walked over the short table and sat down on the fuzzy rug.

"Uh, Cass?" Harry prodded, tilting his head to the side. Cass held up a pointer finger, signaling for him to wait a second. Concentrating, she tried to give herself a vision. Her eyes pricked and the cozy room abruptly morphed into another scene.

_A man and woman were facing each other, each holding a baby between them. The man was laughing, and he was looking at the two bundles with joy—a lot of it. The woman had red hair, and a smile brighter than the sun was on her lips as she gazed fondly at the infants. Tiny, chubby fingers reached up from the blankets to touch her face, and a giggle bubbled out from one of the babies. _

Cass came out of the vision with tears in her eyes, but she worked through them. Her hand flew across the parchment in a flurry of strokes. After a few minutes of sketching, a picture formed of a family, the mother and father holding two babies between them. The same sweet image from her vision.

"Cass? What're you doing?" Harry asked, coming over to kneel next to her. Cass heard his breath catch as he looked at her drawing. "Cass…it's beautiful," he choked out.

"Yeah, they are beautiful," Cass agreed, wishing with all her heart she had met them. "Harry, I know you don't remember them, but haven't people told you what they were like?"

Harry looked up. "Yeah, they have." He answered her next question without her having to ask. "Mum…mum was brilliant, they say. And strong." Cass recalled her standing up to Voldemort from one of her visions. "And dad, well, he was pretty brilliant, too, but he had a…different approach to life. Everyone tells me he was a wicked prankster—the forerunners of the Weasley twins, actually." Cass's heart thumped at the word "twin." And she had thought she was past the disbelieving stage. _I don't think I'm ever going to get past that stage,_ she realized. Once again, it all came back to Dumbledore and his stupid decision to keep them in the dark. She stubbornly refused to admit, even to herself, that the earliest he could have told them was when he found out where she was, and even then, it would have been a shocker. _No, _she thought, _it's all his fault. _

"Cass…can I keep this?" he asked, gesturing to the paper.

"I _made_ it for you, Harry," Cass replied obviously. Harry gave her a grateful look.

"Thank you very much," he said thickly.

"You're welcome very much," Cass replied, just as thickly. They shared a quiet moment, Harry simply admiring her drawing and Cass…well, the shock of it had hit her once again, so she just silently worked through it. _Harry is my twin, Harry is my twin._ That was something she had been repeating to herself a lot over the past…how many hours had it been? She glanced at her watch; only two and a half hours. She marveled at how fast her life had changed, and at how significantly. Only two and a half hours; she had watched films longer than that.

"Cass…who should we tell?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Whoever the heck we want to," Cass replied fiercely.

Harry grinned. "Sounds great, but…I think we should listen to at least _some_ of Dumbledore's," he spat the name out, "advice. Voldemort…I don't want him to find out. I really, _really_ don't."

Cass opened her mouth in protest, about to say that she felt he was going to anyway, but then snapped it shut, thinking about it. She had only barely been registering the truth herself, and she realized she wouldn't be comfortable with _everyone_ finding out. At least, not until she had absorbed it herself. "Okay," she agreed slowly. "Who do you trust enough to tell?"

Without hesitation, Harry said, "Ron and Hermione."

Cass nodded; she didn't need clairvoyance to know he was going to say that. Those three were tighter than a pod of peas. She thought about who _she_ trusted enough to tell. Her friends—Brooke, Sarah, Bello, Janelle, Cyrene, Rose (and maybe Marcell)—immediately came to mind. But…she had only known them for a few months…but they _were_ part of a secret club with her…but there were so many…but they were the closest friends she had ever had…she sat there, on the rug, debating in her head. It was a sharp pricking of her eyes that made her mind up for her.

"_Guys, there is something I have to tell you…" a dark-haired girl said to a group of children. The vision shifted. People looked at a green-eyed girl with shock, and there was a sobbing blonde in the background, blubbering apologies. _

Cass sighed sadly as she returned to the present. The blonde…it had been Brooke. If she told them, her friend would let it get out. Cass knew without a vision that Brooke wouldn't do it on purpose, but it still killed her to say, "I had—had a vision. If I tell Brooke, it'll get out."

Harry's face softened. "Cass—you said Voldemort would find out anyway…you can tell her, if you want," he said. Cass felt some pressure alleviate in her chest at his words. But…if she was being honest with herself…she…she didn't want her friends to know. Her telling them about her being a seer was different then her telling them about her being _Harry Potter's twin_. Cass, although she would never admit this to anyone else, was _scared_. She had found great friends, but she had seen the way they reacted to Harry, to the Boy Who Lived…she didn't want them to react that way to her. Maybe that made her a horrible friend. But she didn't want to lose the one thing in her life that was normal right now. She couldn't.

"No, I won't tell them," Cass said, guilt settling in her stomach like a large stone. She rolled her shoulders back and told herself that it wasn't like she was keeping a big secret _about _them. Just from them—and for good reason. If she told them, it would get out. And, despite what she told Dumbledore, she was not prepared for Voldemort at all. Even the mental image of him from the graveyard was enough to send shivers down her spine.

Harry gave her a long look, his eyes boring into hers, green on green. Finally, Cass couldn't take the silence any longer and said, "Well, how are we going to tell Hermione and Ron? Or, probably the better question, where are we going to tell them?"

"Not the common room, it's too public."

"Here?" Cass suggested.

"Sure…"

OoOoO

Cass blindly reached through the darkness for her green hoodie and jeans. The heavy breathing of her roommates filled the otherwise silent dormitory. Slowly, she grabbed her clothes and swung her legs out of bed. She kneeled down and grabbed her Reeboks, then made her way over to the bathroom. As quietly as she could, Cass opened the door and slid inside, flicking the lights on only after the door was closed once more.

She dressed fast, not even putting her hair up in her haste. Cass lifted her foot and rested it on the toilet, then began sliding her tennis shoes on. She turned the lights off before opening the door and moving through the room, snatching her wand off the nightstand as she went. Silently, she left the dormitory and padded down the stairs.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry were waiting for her in the common room. Both Hermione and Ron had extremely confused looks on their faces. Cass had a feeling knowing the truth wouldn't lessen their puzzled expressions, only deepen them. Harry's face held an anxious look on it, though what he was anxious about was a mystery to Cass. Ron and Hermione were his best friends; if anything, _she _should be worried. But she wasn't, not really. Only a little guilty that her own friends weren't gathered there, too.

The clock on the mantle showed it was a little past two in the morning, so they wouldn't get caught sneaking off. Hopefully. Cass was still a little uncertain about how Harry was going to tell if there were teachers nearby. _You'll see_, he had said. Cass had scoffed self-righteously, hoping his confidence didn't get them caught.

"What is this about?" Ron whispered. "And why is Cass here?"

"That's what we're going to tell you. Just…hang on…it can't be in here," Harry answered, taking out a piece of parchment from his pocket. Cass recognized it as the strange parchment from the D.A. meetings.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the parchment.

"It's a map of Hogwarts," Harry said, "that shows everyone in it, every second, every day."

"That's _wicked_," Cass said, already thinking of the implications. Even with her Third Eye, she was far from omniscient; that map would come in handy. "Did you make it? How did you enchant it?"

Harry pressed his lips together. "No, my dad did—him and his friends." His friends…Sirius, Remus, and the traitor Harry had told her about. Cass suddenly felt the need to touch the map, to feel something her father had made. Instead, she clenched her fists, which were hidden in the sleeves of her hoodie.

"Neat," was all she said.

Harry nodded his agreement. "Anyway, Ron, I'm going to sneak to the Room of Requirement with you, then I'll go back for Cass and Hermione."

"But why do we need to go to the Room of Requirement?" Ron questioned.

Hermione sighed. "The thing they've got to tell us can't be overheard," she said with an air of obviousness. Cass resisted the urge to add a "duh" to her statement.

"Right, then, let's go, Ron," Harry said. Cass wondered why they weren't just sneaking off together as a group. Perplexed, she watched Harry pull out a silvery bundle from his pocket. Her eyes grew wide as he slung it around himself and Ron, disappearing into the common room background.

"Where are they?" she asked Hermione, narrowing her eyes at the last spot she had seen them. The older girl looked amused.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," she explained.

Cass's eyes bored into their last known location, searching for any sign they were there. She found none. "Brilliant," she breathed.

"'Bye! See you in a minute," Harry's voice came from near the portrait hole. Cass did a double take; she hadn't known him and Ron had moved.

The portrait door swung open, revealing a dark corridor behind it. After a few seconds, it closed again. Cass grinned; she was _definitely_ going to be borrowing that from Harry.

Cass could tell Hermione was itching to know what was happening, but the fifth-year didn't say anything. Cass felt thankful for that; she didn't know what she would say if Hermione asked. _Oh, yeah, it's not that big at all, really. Harry is actually my twin, no biggie!_ Hermione would take Cass to Madam Pomfrey for sure. As it was, she wasn't sure she and Harry together could convince them.

"So, how are things going with S.P.E.W.?" Cass asked.

Hermione brightened. "They're going well, thanks for asking. I thought about what you said, how the elves chose it for themselves. But I still think there should be stricter laws in place to make sure the house-elves aren't harmed, like Dobby had been." Hermione had told Cass about Dobby in the library. Cass had had to fight hard not to go tell Draco Malfoy off to his face, knowing full well that it would only result in her punishment.

Hermione suddenly opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. She shook her head, seeming to struggle with herself. "Hermione?" Cass prodded gently, suspecting what this was about.

"Did you See something?" Hermione blurted.

"Yes…but—"

It was that moment that the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Cass sighed in relief, marveling at Harry's good timing. Her eyes searched fruitlessly for an indication of where he was. Her gaze fell on the patterned rug and she gave a small smile of victory. There was a slight indent on the carpet in the shape of a shoe. Cass moved over to the pressed-in part of the rug and reached her hand out. A silky, flowy texture greeted her, and a sharp tug revealed Harry.

"Impressive," he remarked. Hermione walked over to stand next to Cass.

"Eh, not really. Just a good eye," Cass said. In truth, she felt proud of herself for spotting the giveaway.

The silvery fabric descended upon the three Gryffindors. Cass ran her hands over it. "This is so wicked," she whispered. Hermione shushed her, as they were out of the tower now, but Harry grinned in agreement. Or maybe it was a nervous grin—nervous about his friends' reactions. She hated that she couldn't tell. She should be able to read the emotions of her own brother—her _twin_ brother.

Cass, Harry, and Hermione made their way through the quiet hallways, ears straining for sound—except for Harry's. He was simply looking at the map from time to time. Idly, Cass wondered how many other people in the castle were awake. There had to be _one_ person beside themselves; a place as big as Hogwarts was never fully asleep.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the painting of Barnabus the Barmy and his little entourage of troll-ballerinas. _Bonkers_, Cass thought towards the picture.

The Room of Requirement had changed slightly since that afternoon. It had doubled in size (fitting since it had doubled in occupants) and there were now four armchairs instead of two. Nervously, Cass sat in one of them, opposite to Harry and next to Ron. She picked at the arms of the chair absentmindedly.

"Okay, here goes…" Harry began, his voice dry. Hastily, he cleared his throat. "Dumbledore kept a secret from us—Snape and McGonagall, too. Cass found out this afternoon…she had a vision, of course. I had no idea what was going on, but Snape led us—Cass and I—we went to Dumbledore's office…you're not going to believe me, it is completely mental…I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself…I—"

"Harry!" Cass interrupted, irritated. "You're blubbering. Oh, screw explanations!" she said huffily. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Harry and I are twins!"

OoOoO


	18. Quidditch and Disbelief

**DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters in this story aren't mine, I'm only borrowing them without permission. However, I get no money from this, so I guess it's okay…for **_**JKR. **_**Me, well…I guess followers and favoritors (is that a word?) are good enough (*cries silently as I look into my empty piggy bank*). **

**A/N: Hellooooooooooooooo! And…it only gets better from here! If you guys could see my plotting notebook, your eyes would pop out of their sockets. On that suspenseful note, I will stop yapping and start writing!**

OoOoO

Ron barked a loud laugh. "Ha! You, twins? Ha!"

Hermione's mind seemed to have gone blank. She just sat in her armchair, mouth open, brows furrowed, head tilted.

Cass gave a weak smile and did the jazz hands. "Er, surprise?"

Ron only laughed more, causing Harry to wince. "No, really, Ron. We're not lying, honest."

Ron's face darkened. "Spit out the truth, Harry. I didn't get out of bed to be _pranked_."

Cass narrowed her eyes. "It _is_ the truth."

Hermione's eyes were darting between Harry and Cass repeatedly, likely comparing their faces. She frowned, opened her mouth, shook her head, and opened it again. "I can see you guys as family, but not twins. I'm not daft; Harry is four years older than Cass."

"Yeah!" Ron added unnecessarily.

Cass and Harry exchanged glances, green eyes on green eyes, before looking back at Ron and Hermione with complete and utter seriousness. Harry began speaking, telling the story of their lives. Every now and then, Cass would put something in. In a way, it was very therapeutic, listening to Harry and herself. It helped her to come to terms with the situation a little better. Never mind that it made her _that_ much angrier with Dumbledore, retelling the story of how he _lied _to them.

By the end of the tale, Ron and Hermione both had bordering looks on their faces. Ron's was bordering on laughing or telling them they've gone mad. Hermione's was bordering on disbelief and confusion. For both, the former seemed to be dominant.

"_What?_" Ron laughed tightly, giving Harry and Cass each a concerned look.

"Are you being serious? Completely? This is the truth? You guys are…twins?" Hermione demanded, her face twisted into bewilderment.

Harry and Cass nodded slowly and clearly. Helpfully, Cass got up and walked over to Harry, pressing her face against his. She did it more for comedic effect than to convince them, but Ron's eyes widened.

"No bloody way," he breathed.

"Yes bloody way," Cass stated.

"It's the truth, Ron," Harry said.

Now, both his _and_ Hermione's eyes were moving from Harry to Cass and back to Harry, each with a scanning gleam in them. Cass supposed they were looking for a sign her and Harry were joking, or maybe they were noticing the similarities. Either way, their penetrating gazes made her want to squirm as she sat back down in her seat.

"You're _joking_," Ron said, shaking his head.

Harry shook his own. "I swear, we're not. You can ask Dumbledore tomorrow."

This more than anything seemed to convince Hermione. "Dumbledore would never prank us like this. If he's in on it, it must be the truth," she pointed out to red-haired boy.

Ron's mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. "Really?" he finally got out.

"Really," Cass and Harry said in unison.

Hermione rested her elbows on her knees with her head in her hands, bushy hair spilling over her arms. "How is that even _possible_? I know—too well, in fact—how Time-Turners work. They can only send someone _back _in time, and for a few hours. Not _forward_ by _four years_," she said, perplexed.

"Dumbledore said it was a spell—one that could only be performed once every thousand years, or something. And it involved Fawkes; I'm guessing that the phoenix's ability to teleport had something to do with it," Cass explained, though she did not fully understand it herself. Hermione's claim that it was impossible brought the memory of Lily—her _mother _—in the Pensieve. She had said something similar. Cass found herself, not for the first time that day, longing to be held by Lily. Shakily, she wrapped her own arms around herself, fantasizing they were her mum's.

Ron muttered, "Bloody hell. And I thought everything that's happened before was mad. But this?" He whistled. "This takes first place."

"You're telling me," Cass mumbled. Maybe it was the late hour, but numbness was starting to thread its way through her mind again. Giving herself a firm pinch on the thigh, she shoved it away.

Ron seemed to have an epiphany. "Wait, Dumbledore _knew?_ He knew this whole time?"

Hermione started at that, too, and her eyes gained an angry and shocked edge. "He did, didn't he?"

Even from a meter or so away, Cass could hear Harry ground his teeth. His face darkened considerably, and she knew that her expression was similar. "Yeah, he knew," Harry said quietly. Bitterly. It was then that Cass realized how betrayed he must feel. She had only known, by the loosest definition, Dumbledore for a few months. Harry had known him for_ years_. Had been lied to for _years._

A couple minutes of silence passed. Cass could almost hear the gears turning in Ron's and Hermione's heads as they tried to process the information. Herself, well…those gears had been jammed for—Cass glanced at her watch—oh, fourteen hours or so. She reckoned it was the same for Harry.

Finally, Harry said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Hermione asked softly.

"Well, you know…tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm not, really," Cass deadpanned.

"I _know_, Cass. I'm talking about Ron and Hermione."

"I _know_, Harry," Cass repeated his words, imitating his tone perfectly. Harry breathed a tired chuckle.

"Want to know what I'm thinking? 1) Dumbledore's a bloody git. 2) Who was born first?" Ron asked, a reluctant grin spreading across his face.

Hermione sent him a look that said now was not the time to be cracking jokes. Harry, however, seemed to think it funny. "I dunno," Harry replied, shrugging.

"And isn't _that_ a shame?" Cass muttered under her breath. Despite herself, she fought to suppress a grin. Ron's question _had _been funny.

"Could you…find out?" Harry asked, emphasizing his last two words.

Cass twisted her lips into a half-frown. _What am I, a crystal ball?_ She didn't say that, though. Instead, she answered, "Maybe… I don't know. I've had a lot of big visions today—er, yesterday. It—my…gift—is, uh, _worn out_, I guess you could say." It was true; she was already nursing a sharp stabbing behind her right eye. Forcing herself to have a vision would only increase that pain, if it happened at all.

"That's okay," Harry said gently, giving her an _almost_ loving smile. However, it looked very out of place on his face, like something he didn't use often. _Of course he doesn't smile that way often, like a brother to his little sister,_ Cass thought to herself drowsily. She gave a small, exhausted smile back and hoped it looked more natural than his.

For a while, Cass, Harry, Ron, and Hermione just talked. It was a strange experience for Cass, to be talking with her—her _twin brother_ and his best friends. Adding to the oddness was the fact that they had all been around each other for a couple months, training themselves in defense and despite Umbridge's best efforts to see them defenseless. Often, as there was a large age gap between Cass and the fifth-years, their topics of interest didn't _quite_ align. Which, of course, only served to emphasize the strangeness even more. Despite all this, she found she enjoyed talking with Harry, Ron, and Hermione—Harry especially. She got an insight into his life, his adventures, his personality…it was nice. Weird, yes, but nice.

It was about half past three in the morning when a loud yawn from Cass caused Harry to say, "We should go to bed." Even having just yawned, Cass doubted she would be able to sleep. Without asking him, she could tell Harry felt the same. Nevertheless, the four Gryffindors got up from their armchairs, stretched their stiff limbs, and took turns hiding under the Invisibility Cloak to sneak back to Gryffindor Tower.

Cass and Harry gave each other awkward smiles before heading up to their separate dormitories. While she and Hermione climbed the girls' stairwell, the older girl gave her hand a gentle squeeze and a comforting smile. Cass smiled back, if a little unsurely.

"Goodnight—er—morning, Hermione," Cass whispered as she opened the door to her dormitory.

"Sleep well," was Hermione's soft reply.

In her bedroom, Cass could hear Brooke's loud snores and Pauline's deep breathing. She walked right past her bed, the covers stuffed with pillows to make it seem like she was in it, and into the bathroom. Not really caring if it woke her dormmates, she turned on the shower, adjusting the nozzle to a comfortably warm water setting. Without waiting for the water to heat up, Cass took off her clothes and jumped in. She sat on the floor of the shower, knees curled up, head resting on her trembling arms, and cried. She rarely ever thought tears were anything but stupid, but, for right now, she let sobs rack her body. For her dead parents. For all the missing years with her twin—_her bloody twin!_ Warm water splattered over her bowed head, plastering her hair on her bare shoulders. For maybe the longest amount of time in her life, Cass cried. And when she picked herself off the floor and washed her face, she vowed not to do it again. No way was she going to waste time on tears when she had a twin brother to get to know.

OoOoO

Later that day, at breakfast, Cass had to pour herself a _strong_ cup of coffee just to keep her head from lolling, and even then, she was blinking sleep out of her eyes. Across the table from her, Harry looked even worse for wear, if that was possible. Dark bags under his eyes stood out against pale skin and his usually bright eyes were dull and cloudy.

Brooke was giving her an odd look from a couple seats over, probably wondering why she was sitting with Harry. Or maybe she was concerned for her. Guiltily, Cass realized she hadn't even given her friend an explanation as to what happened in Potions yesterday. She wanted to blame it on the fact that her whole world had just been shattered, but she admitted to herself that wasn't the case. If she were being completely honest with herself, she didn't know what to say to Brooke, or to any of her friends. Not the truth, not if it meant everyone finding out about Harry and Cass being twins—she mentally stumbled over that word. But Cass resolved right then and there that she wouldn't lie to them. They didn't deserve that.

But for right now, Cass wanted to sit with Harry. Luckily, she and Brooke had already been sitting close to him and his friends in the first place, so it wasn't a completely different part of the table. Brooke would be fine; she had a couple of second-years to keep her occupied.

So Cass turned her attention to Harry. "I didn't sleep well, either" she told him empathetically.

Harry looked up from his porridge and gave her a long, sad look. "I just—I can't even begin to understand what we're going through," he said quietly, making sure the other students didn't hear him.

Cass's lips twisted into a frown. "I know…I just can't wrap my head around it. This whole time…" she sighed, giving up on trying to describe her feelings. She couldn't even pick them apart in her head, never mind attempt to explain them to Harry.

"How 'bout we do something fun today?" Harry asked suddenly, perking up as if he'd had an idea.

"Like what?"

"Do you know how to play Quidditch?"

"Not really…" Cass could see where this was going.

"Can you fly?"

"I guess I'm fair."

"That's what Harry says. And he's the best bloody Seeker in the world," Ron said around a mouthful of bacon.

"Was…James…a Quidditch player?" Cass asked slowly, fully aware that anyone could hear their conversation.

Harry's lips quirked up into a smile. "Yeah, he was. It's where I got it from."

Cass smiled, holding that piece of information about her father to her heart. "I would love to play, Harry."

"Brilliant! How about after breakfast? You can borrow my Firebolt."

Cass's eyes widened. She wasn't an expert on Quidditch, but she knew what a Firebolt was. _Ooh! Yes, yes, yes! _she thought excitedly. "Thanks, Harry! But, first, I owe my friend an explanation—not the complete one, mind you, just…"

"I get it. I'll meet you on the Quidditch pitch?"

"Yeah…" Cass got up and walked over to Brooke.

"What happened yesterday? You didn't seem yourself at all in the dormitory," Brooke said as soon as Cass's bum touched the seat.

"I—" Cass's mind whirred, determining just how much she wanted to tell Brooke. "I had a vision."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

Cass spared Brooke a one second look of annoyance at her sarcasm before continuing, "I Saw my parents," she said. _I watched as they protested me being taken away. I watched them die at Voldemort's hands_ were the words left unsaid.

"Really! That's great—or not?" Brooke changed her claim at Cass's heartbroken face.

_Just say it. It's the truth._ "They're dead. I Saw them die," Cass said with a strained edge in her voice. The bluntness of her statement hurt her, but she told herself firmly that she was going to have to accept it sooner or later. Best it was sooner.

"Oh. _Oh_. Cass, I—I don't know what to say. I'm sorry," Brooke said, embracing her. Cass hugged her back for a second, wiped away the _useless_ tears, and then pulled away.

"Thanks, Brooke."

"You're—um—welcome. But, Cass, why were you sitting with Harry?"

Cass had to force herself not to tense up; that would only make it seem like she was hiding something. She was, but with good reason. "Oh, well, his parents died, too, obviously. He just…knows how it feels, I guess. Plus, I can be friends with whoever I want," she added fiercely.

"Yeah, but no one will ever trump me." Cass smiled at Brooke's attempt at humor.

"Ehh, I dunno. You can be hotheaded at times."

"And that makes me a bad friend?" Brooke bantered.

"Nope, just a simple statement of fact."

"Whatever."

"Harry invited me to play Quidditch with him, so I'm gonna go," Cass announced.

Brooke pouted. "Aw, come on. It's sunny today. We were going to go around the lake." By "we", Cass knew she meant their other friends.

"I'll join you guys, later, okay?" Cass compromised.

Brooke just shrugged. "Fine, but we're going to have _so_ much fun without you."

"Sorry, can't hear you over the wind from the _Firebolt_," Cass said, walking towards the entrance hall. Halfway there, she heard Brooke's shocked exclamation of, "What? No way!" but she was too busy smiling to herself. _Time for some quality family bonding…_

OoOoO

It was one of those rare December days that didn't make you want to jump in the fire from being so cold. On the Quidditch pitch, Harry was waiting for Cass with a polished, smooth, and very elegant broomstick in his hands, which were covered in warm, red gloves. Cass felt her pulse quicken just _looking _at the magnificent broomstick. She couldn't even imagine _flying_ on it.

"Whoa," she said to Harry. Ron gave a nod of agreement next to him, but Hermione was too engrossed in a thick book in the stands to notice Cass's arrival. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks. Siri—Snuffles got it for me. The—er—one that I met in my third year," Harry said. Cass nodded; he must be talking about Sirius Black, their dad's friend. _Their dad's_…she found it strange that she was already thinking that way. Not strange in an unwelcome was, just…odd. "Snuffles is his codename," Harry continued.

"Wow. Where'd he get the money? They can't make a lot in—er—you know…" Cass was going to say Azkaban, but she didn't know if that was taboo, too. Wearily, she admitted there were a lot of things she didn't know about Harry. She would do her best to remedy that, and soon.

"His family is pretty rich—and plenty old," Harry replied. Smiling in an excited way, he held the broom out for Cass to touch. The Firebolt seemed to hum with magic and her eyebrows rose. Never in a million years did she think she would ride anything other than the school's ancient brooms, and certainly not with her twin brother that was four years her senior. The improbability of it all made Cass want to laugh and cry at the same time. Instead, she grasped the handle of the broom delicately and took it from Harry's hands.

"Okay, since this broom is very sensitive to its flier, you'll need to be careful with how much force you apply to it, yeah?" Harry explained.

"Yeah," Cass nodded her understanding.

"Right, then. I'll be using the school's Comet 420," Harry said. Cass nodded; though she wouldn't say this aloud, she was nervous about flying on this broom. What if it—

_A girl on a broom zoomed through the sky, screaming in exhilarated laughter. An older boy flew below her, his green eyes alight with joy._

Cass returned to the present, relieved._ Nothing bad is going to happen_, she thought. While having her vision, her hold on the Firebolt had loosened. She tightened her grip on the silky wood to keep it from slipping from her hands and grinned at Harry. He grinned back, eyes swimming with an emotion that Cass believed was happiness, but it bordered on been bittersweet sadness.

"Ready?" Harry asked, straddling his broom.

"Yep," Cass replied, swinging a leg over the Firebolt. "Harry, thank you for letting me ride this."

"What are...you-know-whats for?" he replied. _Brothers. He means what are brothers for_, Cass thought. She gave him a small smile that started out as warm but turned cheeky as she kicked off from the ground.

The ground rushed away from her feet, which Cass kicked frantically in her abrupt ascent. "Eek!" she shrieked shrilly. She leaned forward slightly to slow it down, just like she had learned in Madam Hooch's flying lessons. Only this time she was flying a broom likely with more power than all the brooms in the school's broom shed combined.

Harry floated up gracefully to Cass's level. "I warned you to be gentle."

"Well, I thought I was!"

Harry laughed. "Not enough, apparently."

Cass narrowed her eyes and concentrated on putting _just_ enough force to travel over to Harry and line up with him perfectly. "How's that?" she asked smugly.

"Much better, actually," Harry replied. "Oh, here comes Ron."

Ron was climbing onto his broomstick and kicking off into the air. He rose quickly and stopped when he arrived next to Cass and Harry.

"So, what are we going to do?" Cass asked. "Can't play Quidditch with only three people."

"Well, I asked Hermione if she would play, but she said no," Ron said. "How 'bout we just throw the Quaffle around?" he suggested, withdrawing the ball from his robes.

"Alright," Harry agreed.

Cass nodded her head and prepared to catch the Quaffle if Ron threw it to her. He was looking at Harry, but Cass knew that trick, and caught it when he tossed it to her without aiming. "Nice try," she told him.

Harry grinned at her. Cass grinned back before throwing the Quaffle at him. However, she was unused to throwing things while riding on a broomstick, so her toss went wide, maybe a meter or so to the left of Harry. Still, he lunged for it, his fingers _just_ grazing the leather ball, but he didn't catch it. Undeterred, Harry dived down after it, dropping below it and holding out his hands casually. The Quaffle fell into his waiting hands neatly. Effortlessly. He glided back up to Cass and Ron, a proud smile on his face.

"That was brilliant!" Cass said, awed at her brother's display.

"Showoff," Ron muttered. A second later, the Quaffle hit him square in the head, Harry having hurled it at him.

"Ouch, Harry! I'm only joking!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his temple.

"I didn't throw it that hard!" Harry defended himself, laughing. Cass laughed, too.

Ron chucked the ball back to Harry, who caught it without any strain. For a while, they all just tossed the Quaffle back and forth between each other, and Cass got a much needed look into Harry's life. He was at ease in the air. It was his home, of a sort. He took calculated risks that never went wrong and made impossible maneuvers look easy. She admired it, and, during the hour or so that they played, wondered many times if her—_their—_dad had been like that.

Cass herself was proud to admit she had gotten the hang of riding the Firebolt fairly quickly. It took some effort, but she had managed to dive after a falling Quaffle in record time, nearly as graceful as Harry had been. After, she zoomed around the Quidditch pitch in a celebratory lap, her hair flying and eyes stinging from the wind.

"Nice job, Cass!" Harry yelled at her.

"Bloody twins and they're bloody natural talent," Ron had muttered, only for Cass to give him a stern look she somehow managed to be intimidating. _Yes, how about you tell the whole world?_ she thought irritably.

Eventually, Cass, Harry, and Ron had to admit it was too cold to continue flying. The wind bit at every exposed part of their skin and Cass's trembling lips were turning blue. She lifted her scarf to cover the lower half of her face, then lifted the hood of her jacket under her black school robes for more warmth. When they touched down on the ground, Hermione cast a warming charm, and life returned to Cass's numb fingers.

"Thanks," she said to the older girl.

"You're welcome," said Hermione.

"Where did you even _learn_ this spell? We haven't gone over it in class," Ron said, rubbing his hands together.

"Yes, we did, Ronald. Professor Flitwick taught it in the beginning of the year," Hermione replied exasperatedly. Cass refrained from snickering at Ron's put off expression.

"Here, Harry," Cass said, giving him back his broom. "Thanks again for letting me ride it. It was absolutely _wicked_."

"You're welcome. Hey, maybe Snuffles will buy you one," Harry said, giving her a smile.

Cass tensed. Someone she barely knew buying her a broom that cost hundreds, if not thousands, of galleons? It felt wrong to her for a reason she couldn't explain. Maybe it was because she wasn't used to nice things or loads of money. Or maybe it was because she didn't know Sirius. "Maybe, but I wouldn't want it. I…I don't need it and…I dunno…Sir—_Snuffles_ doesn't know me, I wouldn't know how to thank him or…" she trailed off, feeling bad as Harry's face turned awkward.

"Er, sorry. I—er—I didn't know him either when he got it for me. Um," Harry said stiffly, not finishing his sentence. Cass sighed; it frustrated her to no end that most of their conversations held an undercurrent of awkwardness. _Curse Dumbledore and his no good, lying, conniving self,_ she thought darkly.

"Well, anyway. I had a lot of fun," Cass said, trying to ease the tension. Ron and Hermione exchanged sad glances as Harry and Cass said goodbye to each other.

"Er, Harry?" Cass said as she walked away to join Brooke and her first-year friends around the lake.

"Yes?"

Cass took a deep breath. "I—I feel like it's wrong not to acknowledge the awkwardness. I just—I—" she inhaled calmingly "—it will take…time…to get to know each other. But, one day, we'll be the best of friends. One day, we'll know each other properly, and we'll—we'll _love_ each other. We'll coddle each other's children, be wonderful aunts and uncles. I—I just wanted to say that." As she finished her impromptu speech, Cass fervently hoped she hadn't made things more strained.

Harry's eyes watered, a few tears even spilling over onto his flushed cheeks. "Did you…_See_ that?"

Cass shook her head. "Nope. I'm just determined to make it happen."

OoOoO


	19. Secrets Revealed to Sirius

**DISCLAIMER: Take away all my hard work for this story and you have all JKR's hard work. Take away all the money I make off this story, you get a happy person that didn't make any money off it in the first place. Take away all the money JKR makes off her story, you get a **_**very**_** unhappy woman who just lost the source of most of her income. See what I'm saying? **

**A/N: Helloooo! And…guess what? Over 10,000 hits! *screaming in gibberish* Thanks, guys! Enjoy! **

OoOoO

Sirius Black was sick and tired of Grimmauld Place. However selfish it made him, he desperately wished for something—_anything_—to happen. To his horror, Sirius was starting to look forward to cleaning Buckbeak's dung, just for the simple fact that it was something to do. Even leading Kreacher on a wild goose chase around the house had lost its appeal—and now Kreacher guarded "his" possessions (technically, they were Sirius's, but he would never want anything that belonged to his parents) with a vengeance. Sirius didn't even care he had lost good pranking opportunity. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen,_ he remarked to himself bitterly.

Remus came over often enough, and the rest of the Order visited, too, but Sirius rarely paid attention in the meetings. In a stubborn—and, admittedly, childish—streak, Sirius instead glared at Snivellus the entirety of every meeting. When he wasn't arguing with Molly, of course. And asking everyone about Harry. Harry—that seemed to be what kept him occupied when Sirius was alone. Worrying over his godson. Missing his godson. And missing his godson's parents.

Dumbledore's message that there would be an important Order meeting that Saturday night got Sirius shamefully excited. Maybe it had something to do with Snape's assured absence from the upcoming meeting. _Look at you, Padfoot. Getting excited over a meeting with the headmaster. What a fall from grace, mate._

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hold on the firewhiskey bottle in his hand. That had been James's voice. _Dead, Black, he is bloody dead. Has been for over a decade. Get over yourself._ Sirius lifted the bottle to his lips. In the absence of worrying over escaping from Azkaban, of finding the traitor, and of being on the run, he had too much time to think. And that was dangerous. Especially when you're alone in a dark house with only a vermin house-elf for company.

The Order meeting was top-secret—even more so than usual. Only a select few were invited—namely, Molly, Arthur, Remus, Moody, Tonks and himself. Curiosity sparked in Sirius; only that many? What the hell was this meeting about? He couldn't help but feel a tiny drop of pleasure of being part of something important; he rarely felt important, locked up as he was. Though that pleasure dissipated into a small sea of worry soon enough. What was bad enough for Dumbledore to only confide in six people about?

His interest went skyrocketing when Dumbledore arrived, solemn-faced, eyes dull, mouth twisted into a look of shame. The mood of the room plummeted. Molly and Arthur exchanged worried glances, Tonks stilled, Remus scratched the back of his neck, and Moody's magical eye spun wildly in its socket, likely searching for danger. Sirius swallowed dryly, taking back his wish for action.

Dumbledore trained his eyes on the floor and cast several long, complicated charms. Near as Sirius could figure, they were spells to prevent all manners of eavesdropping, scrying, trespassing, and loads of other things Sirius couldn't begin to understand. He looked towards Remus, certain his friend would recognize the advanced spellwork, but Remus just shook his head and shrugged.

"I have something very important to tell you all," Dumbledore said quietly, sitting in a torn armchair. Everyone made their way over to a seat, Tonks tripping over her feet as she walked over to the moldy couch.

"We kind of deduced that, Albus," Sirius murmured.

Dumbledore gave a small, hoarse chuckle and straightened. He seemed to find resolve somewhere in himself, and a small twinkle appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, well, I fear I may have worried you. Nothing bad has happened, and nothing bad will happen any time soon—not that I know of, anyway. I am more ashamed of myself than anything else, and adding to that shame is my fear for your reactions to what I am about to say."

"Albus, you have nothing to worry about. We stand with you," Remus said kindly. The others offered their agreement, and Sirius nodded his head, if a little belatedly. That was just like Remus, saying things to comfort people without knowing if they deserved comfort. Albus Dumbledore was many things, but ashamed was usually not one of them, and the fact that it was now spoke volumes.

"Thank you all. I only ask you to keep an open mind while I explain myself…it involves Harry, and James and Lily."

Sirius gave a start. James and Lily? Harry, Sirius could understand, as much as it pained him, that his godson was so involved in this war. But James and Lily? What in Merlin's name…?

"Sirius, Remus, do you remember James's and Lily's pregnancy? _Indulge me_," Dumbledore added pleadingly at their bewildered expressions.

"I—yes? Yes, of course," Remus replied. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at his friend; had Albus finally lost it? The man had always been odd, even in their school days, but…why the hell were they talking about his long-dead friends' pregnancy?

"There was one detail they only disclosed to you, me, and maybe two others. Do you remember it?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius scratched his head. For the headmaster's sake, he searched his mind instead of demanding to know what this was about. Quite easily, a memory surfaced in his thoughts.

"_Padfoot, we're having twins!" James exclaimed excitedly. Sirius embraced his friend, grinning from ear to ear. Two godchildren! _

"_Dumbledore wants us to keep it under wraps. It's dangerous enough to have one child during these times…" _

For a second, Sirius thought this might be what Dumbledore was talking about. But, no, it couldn't be. To everyone's sadness, one of the babies had miscarried. Sirius knew that had been hard on James and Lily and he had done his best to help with Harry while they grieved.

"I can only think of one thing, Albus. Surely you aren't talking about the twins—?" Remus started, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"That is exactly what I'm talking about, Remus," Dumbledore interrupted with complete seriousness.

"Wh-what?" Sirius asked. "Dumbledore, you realize they miscarried, right?" Why was he bringing this up? Of all the useless avenues to go down, he chose the years-old tragedy that had left James and Lily heartbroken and changed for the rest of their short lives.

Molly gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "I never knew that," she said sadly. Tonks had a quizzical look on her face and exchanged puzzled looks with Moody.

Remus gave Dumbledore a penetrating gaze, his tired eyes scanning the old man's wrinkled face. "Continue," he said slowly. Sirius scoffed; were they really going to go on with this conversation? In the back of his mind, a voice whispered for him to listen to Dumbledore. Instead, Sirius gave his werewolf friend an incredulous look.

"I am going to tell you all a story, but I have to beg you to let me explain before you jump down my throat," Dumbledore said. Sirius felt his stomach twist into knots, and he was pretty damn sure it had nothing to do with the firewhiskey from earlier. "James and Lily never miscarried. Harry has a twin sister."

Several voices spoke up all at once as everyone except Sirius and Remus leapt to their feet.

"Blimey, he's gone mad," Tonks said.

"Albus, has anyone slipped you anything? Could you be suffering from the effects of an Insanity Draught?" Moody demanded.

"Headmaster, you can't be serious," Arthur said. He, at least, seemed to put a little belief into Dumbledore's words. A little.

"Albus, I think you've had a long day. I can fix you some stew, and I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has something for exhaustion," Molly fretted, looking extremely uncomfortable. No doubt it was unsettling to see her leader spout such ridiculous claims.

Remus looked as though someone had bonked him on the head with a heavy hammer. His eyes had glazed over and gained a curious gleam. "The girl. From the train platform. The one who looked so much like Lily it hurt," he said, shooting Dumbledore a questioning look.

"Yes, yes, that girl. Her name is Cassandra McGarther," Dumbledore said gently.

Sirius shook his head furiously. "We're not idiots, Dumbledore! That girl looked like a third-year at the very highest, and that's stretching it. It doesn't make any bloody sense for her to be Harry's—Harry's twin," Sirius pointed out hotly. _Calm down, Black. This is Dumbledore, he has an explanation for everything._ Sirius wouldn't admit this, but he didn't _want _to have an explanation from Dumbledore. Because his words had struck some chord in him that rang truth, and Sirius didn't want it to be true. He could barely take care of Harry, how could he handle _two?_ Sirius realized he was being ridiculous, just as mad as Dumbledore. Of course he wouldn't have responsibility for two. Because, of course, there _weren't _two. He couldn't quite stop the kernel of excitement that blossomed in his chest, though, no matter how little sense everything made.

"Start explaining, Albus," Moody growled. Molly gasped at the disrespect. Sirius didn't care; he wanted an explanation. Now.

"You must listen to me, please…" Dumbledore began telling the story of the Potters. Of the two prophecies. Of the two babies. Of the time-travel. Sirius sat back down on the couch gingerly, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore. Was this real? Had his loneliness driven him mad? Sirius thought it was pathetic of him to get this out of sorts over a bit of alone time…or_ was _he out of sorts?

"You can't bloody do this to me!" Sirius yelled as Dumbledore finished. "You can't leave me cooped up, deny me _outside _privilege, leave me alone, and then spring this shit on me! You've bloody lost it, Dumbledore. Really? _Really?_"

"Padfoot, please," Remus said quietly.

"What?" Sirius snapped.

"It makes sense," the werewolf murmured consolingly. "Think about it. James and Lily were never quite the same after the miscarriage, and now we know why: their child didn't die peacefully, she was _taken _away." Dumbledore made a horribly tortured sound deep in his throat. "Albus, even if it wasn't intentional, it's what happened. Sirius, they had no closure. They didn't know where she—where, er, Cassandra was, if she was safe, nothing. That seems worse, and James and Lily looked worse than they ever had before."

Sirius's heart seemed to skip several beats at his friend's words. His stomach dropped, as though he had missed a step going down the stairs. His throat constricted painfully, and he gulped in a shuddering breath. He bowed his shoulders and rested his elbows on his thighs with his head in his hands. "Is it true?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered gently.

Molly started breathing in and out very quickly, Arthur was trying to comfort her—it looked like he was doing it to distract himself—Tonks sat in her chair, agape, Moody had a look of intense contemplation on his scarred face, and Remus…Remus's expression made Sirius sit up and stare.

His friend's eyebrows were slanted downwards in anger, his tired eyes were hard, his fists were clenched, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl. Sirius had never seen Remus like this—not ever. If he hadn't been friends with the werewolf, he may have even been scared.

"You mean to tell me you knew who Cassandra was, you _knew_ Harry had a twin, you knew—you bloody knew, and you didn't tell us?!" Remus hollered. Sirius hadn't been thinking, else he would have put that together. Rage boiled up inside him, slightly halted with shock as Remus lunged toward Dumbledore. Quick as a flash, Moody and Arthur were holding him back.

Which meant no one was stopping Sirius.

Sirius leapt to his feet, strode a meter or two over to Dumbledore, and punched him in the nose, all in four seconds flat. Only when blood started to gush out of the headmaster's nose did Sirius realize what he had done. He didn't regret it though; it had felt damn good.

Remus had calmed down and was now looking at Sirius with appreciation. Sirius grinned at his friend, but then it slipped. "Merlin's bloody pants, James and Lily have a daughter," he said numbly.

Molly gave Sirius a sympathetic look as she passed him to hand Dumbledore a handkerchief, and even she gave it to the headmaster stiffly. Tonks had moved to sit next to Remus and was tentatively giving his shoulder a pat. Despite himself, the corners of Sirius's lips tugged upwards. He wasn't blind; his cousin fancied his friend. He wished his friend would just let it happen. That train of thought was only a brief respite from the disbelief flooding him, though. This Cassandra…dear God, she was Harry's twin. And, according to Dumbledore, she was four years younger him. Sirius was starting to get a headache, and it sure as hell wasn't from the firewhiskey.

"Let me meet her. Now," Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore began, "I can't pull a child out of school—"

"Magic be damned, Dumbledore, let me see her. Right. Bloody. Now!"

"If she says yes, she will be over for Christmas," Dumbledore said firmly.

Sirius muttered a string of colorful curses at the headmaster. "Dumbledore, I've followed you through loads of crap, but this…this is inexcusable. You knew about Cassandra, you _knew_, and you never told us? Never even let on…why? We deserve to know!"

"Now, Sirius, I'm sure Albus had a good reason—" Arthur began unsurely.

"I agree with Sirius. I haven't been around as long as everyone else, but to be kept so out of the loop…it's very frustrating, Professor Dumbledore. And I didn't even know James and Lily personally," Tonks interrupted.

"Bloody fools, he kept it to himself to keep it away from snooping ears," Moody growled.

Dumbledore, if only very slightly, winced at this. "Dumbledore?" Remus questioned.

"You aren't the only ones who know, though the others are under oath not to tell anyone—that I made sure of, as I'm sure Alastor will be pleased to hear," said Dumbledore.

Sirius's blood boiled in his ears. So, Dumbledore thought it appropriate to tell people other than James' and Lily's best friends, did he? His respect for the old man was deteriorating by the second. At the same time, his need to meet Cassandra grew rapidly.

"Who else knows, Albus?" Molly asked. Was Sirius imagining the hurt in her voice? He recalled her friendship with Lily from the First Wizarding War. Had Lily survived, the two might have very well been the best of friends by now.

"Minerva and Severus are the only other ones," said Dumbledore slowly. His blue eyes wandered around the room, gauging everyone's reactions.

"_Snivellus. Knew,_" Sirius said through gritted teeth. The bloody git, who had mutually hated James, had known before himself, who had been James's near-brother. Unconsciously, Sirius tightened his grip on his wand, but refrained from uttering a curse. Still, a thin trail of fire flowed out of its end in response to his fury.

Remus had a look of extreme hurt and betrayal on his face. Seeing made Sirius even angrier. His friend—never mind himself—didn't deserve this. Certainly not after a mere two days after the full moon. Sirius opened his mouth, prepared to scream nasty profanities at Dumbledore, but was stopped by the old man holding up a lined hand.

"Sirius, you must understand. I didn't know where Cassandra was—or, more appropriately, I didn't know _when _she was. I didn't even know if whoever found her—which, you'll be pleased to hear, was a very kind elderly couple—if they would decide to call her Cassandra, as Lily and James named her. It was crucial to have some of my staff know so that when she came to Hogwarts, they would recognize her."

"You didn't know where—or when—she was?" Remus clarified. Dumbledore nodded his white head. "I still don't understand how travelling _forward_ in time is even possible."

"It wasn't supposed to be. I found the answer in an ancient Sumerian tablet, and it is a spell that can only be used once a millennium," Dumbledore explained.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Sirius. In a controlled voice, he said, "Harry and Cassandra know, _right? _You certainly didn't keep this from _them_, didn't you?"

"Of course they know," Dumbledore said, though something in his eyes conveyed guilt.

"When did you tell them?" Remus prodded.

"Yesterday," Dumbledore answered in a resigned voice.

"So not only did you keep it from us, which was horrible enough, but you kept it from them. I hope you're bloody proud, Dumbledore," Sirius cut at the headmaster.

Dumbledore turned his head sharply at Sirius. "Sirius, I understand you're angry with me, but I did what I thought was best. I have never put them in any harm, and I have always had the intent to tell them. I prolonged telling them with good reason, and you'll have to trust me on that."

Sirius harrumphed and turned cast his eyes towards the ground. Watery lines blurred his vision, and even as he stared at the carpet he didn't take in the patterned rug. He had a _goddaughter._ Or, maybe Cassandra wasn't legally his goddaughter. The fact that he didn't know made the situation worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced them to dry. He could be strong; Merlin only knows what Harry was going through right now. And Casandra—he had to add Cassandra now.

"You said she's coming over for Christmas, Albus? I'll have to make her a sweater. Do you know what she likes?" Molly asked, breaking the silence that had stretched for a few minutes.

In that moment, Sirius forgot about all the arguments he'd had with the woman and just felt intense gratitude that she was willing to make Cassandra a sweater.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly for the first time that night. "Well, there is something about her I haven't told you…"

OoOoO

Monday was hectic. All of the first-years wanted to know what happened in Potions. Cass denied all rumors, some of which were quite _ridiculous. _They ranged from Cass Seeing Hogwarts attacked by flying monkeys to her Seeing the end of the world. Several times, Cass told people they should take up creative writing, which was met with loud sniggers from Brooke.

"It's really very rude of you to keep us in the dark," one Ravenclaw boy told her.

"It's really none of your business," Cass promptly replied.

"Good-bye!" Brooke added cheerily, looping her arm through Cass's and striding away.

Umbridge, may she rot in a swamp like the toad she is, gave Cass an especially hard time in next day's Tuesday DADA class.

"Miss McGarther, may I speak to you at my desk?" came the saccharine voice just as everyone was filing out of the class. Cass sighed heavily, rolled her shoulders back in preparation for the unnecessary scolding she was about to get, and walked up to Umbridge's desk.

"Yes, ma'am?" Cass asked earnestly, going for innocent and eager to please.

"I was just curious as to why you left during Professor Snape's class last Friday?" Umbridge asked in a sugary voice.

"Oh…right, well, it was for personal reasons that have, um, already been discussed with Professor Snape," Cass said in as smooth a voice she could manage.

"I see. As Hogwarts High Inquisitor, I am here to oversee the punishment of every student, and as a clear violation of Educational Degree Number Twenty-Six, I give you a day's detention with Mr. Filch."

"But—" Cass protested before cutting herself off. She had been about to tell Umbridge to go shove it, but it didn't take a Third Eye to see that going horribly wrong. Instead, she tried for a different approach. "Ma'am, really, I have learned my lesson…I just…I'm sorry, I-I-I just h-h-have a hard time with all—all the rumors about You-Know-Who, and it's so scary, and why do people say it? _Why?_ I h-h-have a M-M-Muggle mum, and I d-d-don't think it's f-f-funny to go around telling p-p-people h-he's back," Cass blubbered, pinching herself hard on the thigh to bring tears to her eyes.

Immediately, Umbridge's demeanor changed. She went from a falsely sweet smile to a very genuine grin in two seconds flat. "I understand your concern, Miss McGarther, and wholeheartedly agree with you. Can you tell me who has been saying these things?"

Cass panicked for a second; she couldn't very well say the obvious answer: Harry Potter. "Um, I-I d-d-don't know if I should s-say. I don't w-want them t-to b-bully me."

"It's alright, you can tell me," Umbridge said in what was obviously meant to be comforting but really sounded quite scary.

"Sasha Ricardo," Cass whispered. For a second, she almost felt bad for the Slytherin. Then she remembered that Princess had tripped Bello, and that sympathy vanished at once.

Umbridge's face fell. Cass was positive she had been wanting her to say Harry was the one telling people that. Harry…_nope, not diving into that emotional mess right now. _

"Well, I will certainly look into the matter, Miss McGarther, do not worry. In the meantime, please come to me if you have any problems with those malicious rumors. I warn you to not leave class again, but I can excuse it if Professor Snape has already arranged something," the toad said, in a voice that suggested she wanted Cass to feel comfortable—probably so Cass would say Harry was the one who did it. _Fat chance I'll ever tell on Harry—or go to Umbridge for anything._

Cass nodded her head, forced a smile, and left the room. As expected, Brooke and Sarah were outside waiting for her.

"Well, how bad was it?" Brooke asked urgently.

"Not that bad, actually. Professor Umbridge was really very kind to me," Cass said, fully aware they were mere meters from the door, within hearing distance. Brooke looked at Cass as though she had sprouted antlers, but Sarah seemed to get what Cass was doing.

"Of course she was. Come on, let's walk around the lake," she said. Brooke opened her mouth in protest, but Cass silenced her with a look that said, "Use your brain! Umbridge is right behind us!"

Brooke rolled her eyes, muttered something about paranoia, and then followed Sarah and Cass out the front doors.

"Really, was that necessary?" Brooke asked Cass exasperatedly.

"Yes, Brooke, it was. The toad was right behind us," Cass replied.

"So, tell us what happened!" Sarah said to Cass.

"Well, she _was_ going to give me detention with Filch, but I told her some rubbish story about me being scared of all the Voldemort rumors and she bought it," Cass explained.

"Wait, actually?" Brooke asked incredulously. Cass nodded. Brooke guffawed, "That's brilliant!"

"Er, thanks. I sort of pinned it on Sasha, too. Told her that she had been the one spreading them," Cass continued.

This sent Brooke into even louder giggles and earned Cass a grin from Sarah.

"That's diabolical, Cass," the Slytherin girl told her. "I think Marcell's right: you should be in Slytherin."

Brooke made a face, which made Cass roll her eyes. The three made their way around the lake in what Brooke called "First-year Fitness Fun Walk." Cass thought the name was ridiculous, but she didn't say anything.

"Tonight is the last D.A. meeting of this semester, I wonder what Harry's gonna teach," Sarah wondered aloud as they walked back up to the front doors. The sun was now setting, casting long shadows on the grounds of Hogwarts.

"I dunno, but I think we should do something fun," Brooke said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Alright, like what?" Cass asked.

"Um…decorate the dummies?" Brooke suggested, shrugging.

"Gee, what fun," Sarah said dryly. "Oh, yes, Mr. Dummy, would you like a red or green flower crown?"

"Well, it was just an idea, no need to get all smart with me," Brooke defended herself.

Cass's eyes pricked in their special little way, and then, quite suddenly, she was in the Room of Requirement.

_A girl with long, black hair stood close to a messy-haired boy with glasses. She was crying; small tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks. The two leaned in to each other, foreheads touching, and…_

Cass came back to the present with a surprised little laugh. "Oh. My. Macaroni," she giggled. Harry was going to kiss that sixth-year girl, Cho Chang, tonight! She felt mingled emotions of hilarity and astonishment. Harry was going to kiss Chang. She felt an odd sense of wrongness with it but decided she wouldn't tell Harry it was going to happen; she might very well ruin it.

"What? What did you See?" Brooke demanded.

"Oh, erm…" Cass didn't want to tell them about Harry and Chang for privacy reasons (never mind the fact that _she_ knew about them). "The Room of Requirement is already decorated, I Saw it." She had; mistletoe had been growing out of the ceiling in her vision."

"Aww, that means we didn't get to do it," Brooke said.

"Shame," Cass deadpanned softly. Luckily, Brooke didn't seem to catch it.

An hour or two later, Cass, Brooke, Sarah, Bello, Rose, and Marcell snuck into the Room of Requirement and waited for everyone else to arrive. Harry flashed Cass a grin from across the room, which Cass promptly returned. Every time she saw him, it still sent shock waves down her spine, but she told herself to get over it and get to know him instead of succumbing to the disbelief at having a twin four years older than her. To Cass's frustration, it was easier thought than done.

"Right, so I thought we'd go over all we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before a three-week break, so there's really no point in starting anything new—"

"We're not learning anything new?" said the fifth-year Hufflepuff, Zacharius Smith. Cass and Rose shared annoyed looks. Smith couldn't go five minutes without some sort of complaint. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered coming…"

In a rare moment where Cass appreciated the Weasley twins, Fred said, "Shame Harry didn't tell you, then." Cass and her friends sniggered, as did several other people.

"We can practice in pairs," said Harry, "and work our way through all the spells, starting with the Impediment Jinx."

Everyone split into pairs and started to shout, _"Impedimenta!"_ Cass was paired up with Brooke, who was quite good with the Impediment Curse. Cass was frozen, unable to move, three times before she finally hit Brooke with her own jinx. Hers wasn't nearly as powerful as Brooke's, but she hit her friend square in the chest, so she was frozen longer.

After practicing _Impedimenta_ for about ten minutes, Harry had everyone practice Stunning. This was a real challenge for all the first-years, as it required a stronger magical core. By the end of that exercise, only Cass, Cyrene, and Marcell had cast it, and even they didn't have full mastery.

At the very end of the meeting, everyone sat down and practiced wandless magic. In the last few months, there hadn't been much progress. Hermione had Summoned several cushions, Harry had managed to levitate Bello (a great feat, especially since Bello was quite heavy to levitate), and a couple other people had done some minor charms. Cass had only been able to cast _anything_ two times, which frustrated her to absolutely no end. Cyrene had transfigured something—well, she halfway transfigured a match into a needle. So, Cass didn't have many expectations for this meeting.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ she cast. The feather in front of her didn't move one centimeter. Cass tried a different charm. _"Incendio!"_ A thin wisp of smoke trailed up from the feather. Encouraged, Cass tried in a louder voice, _"Incendio!"_

A column of hot flame erupted on the spot where the feather used to be. "Eek!" Cass shrieked, scrambling backwards. _Water, I need water! _She thought desperately. Directly above the powerful inferno, a water pipe opened and rained water down on the flame, dousing it. Steam hissed in the air as water met fire, and when it cleared only a blackened shape melted on the ground remained of the feather.

Everyone was staring at Cass with surprise. Cass felt a triumphant grin spread across her face. She had done it!

"Great job, Cass!" Harry called, smiling at her. It could have been her imagination, but she thought she saw a hint of pride in his face.

Other people congratulated her, too, and Cass felt extremely proud of herself.

"Cass, brilliant job, but why did you use the Fire-Making Charm, of all things?" Marcell asked. He looked a little bitter; he hadn't been able to do much in the wandless magic department.

"Honestly, I didn't expect it to work," Cass replied sheepishly.

"You're a seer!" Marcell argued.

"I'm not omniscient!" Cass said indignantly, lifting her chin.

"Try again, Cass. I am curious to see your exact movements, to analyze every variable," Cyrene said. Cass nodded and chose a less dangerous charm to cast, even if she hating Marcell thinking he had been right.

"_Wingardium leviosa!"_

The new feather lifted slightly—maybe two or three decimeters—then flopped back to the ground in a very defeated manner. "Darn," Cass said. She tried again. The feather floated about half a meter, then drifted back down to the ground. On the third try—and with loads and loads of concentration on Cass's part—the feather didn't even lift one bit.

"I guess it just takes practice," Bello said comfortingly.

"Or you could just be doing it wrong," Brooke said. Cass shot her a scathing look.

"I wonder why it works sporadically…could it have something to do with the magical energy in the room…or perhaps the volume of the caster's voice…?" Cyrene was muttering to herself, something she did quite frequently when faced with a puzzle.

"Well, everyone, we've got five minutes until we need to be in bed, so let's start to wrap everything up…" Harry announced.

Cass picked herself off her cushion and tucked her silver wand into her pocket. _I'll get it eventually,_ she thought to herself.

As everyone left the Room of Requirement, Cass caught Harry's eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. He shot her a confused look, but she just gave a pointed look to Cho Chang and marched out, leaving a very puzzled Harry behind.

The disbelief that Harry was her twin was still there, but Cass felt herself growing comfortable around him.

Things would turn out just fine.

OoOoO


	20. Dreams and Bittersweet Meetings

**DISCLAIMER: No ownership here…keep looking...nope, still not me.**

**A/N: Hellooo! Over 11,000 hits! Yay! Thanks, everyone! Please review, favorite, follow, and—most importantly—enjoy!**

OoOoO

Cass watched as Harry climbed into the Gryffindor common room. He looked dazed and was blushing. She snorted loudly, drawing the attention of Hermione and Ron, who were waiting with her in some plush armchairs.

"Harry?" said Hermione as he sank into an armchair next to Cass.

"How did it go?" Cass asked earnestly.

Harry did a little double take. "How—what…? How did you…Oi! Of _course _you would know about it!"

Cass pressed her lips together firmly to keep from laughing; she didn't want to make Harry feel bad. In truth, though, it was quite funny.

"Naturally," she said. "Well?"

"What are you going on about?" Ron asked.

Cass looked at Harry; she wasn't going to tell Ron or Hermione—it was up to Harry if he wanted to tell his friends. Harry's face flushed red, and Cass buried her face in the crook of her arm, which was resting on the arms of the chair. It was _really_ difficult not to laugh.

"I kissed her," Harry whispered, cheeks flaming.

"Cho?" Hermione clarified.

Harry nodded.

"HA!" Ron made a victorious gesture with his fist and went into a raucous fit of laughter, rolling around on the hearthrug as he did so. Harry's face reluctantly spread into a grin, but Cass and Hermione exchanged faintly disgusted looks.

"Well, how was it?" Ron said, giving Harry his complete attention.

"She was crying, so…I dunno what happened, exactly. She just sort of leaned in, and—er—I just…" Harry trailed off, looking miserable.

"She was crying?" Cass asked.

"How bad at kissing can you be?" Ron asked, shaking his head.

"Ron!" Cass and Hermione scolded in unison.

"I'm sure it wasn't Harry's kissing," said Cass.

"It wasn't anything he did," added Hermione.

Harry and Ron were looking at them curiously. "How do you know?" Ron asked in a sharp tone.

"Cho spends most her time crying," Hermione said. Cass wondered how anyone could be upset kissing, but then again, she didn't know much about the subject. The thought didn't sit well with her; she liked to be very informed in all matters. _That_ thought made her blush.

"You'd think some snogging would cheer her up," Ron said, grinning roguishly.

"Ron," Hermione said in a very dignified voice, "you are the most uncaring wart I have ever met."

Cass sniggered at Ron's confused and indignant expression. "I've seen Cho crying in the loos often enough. She's obviously going through something."

"Right, well, Cass, you don't know this, but Cho was Cedric Diggory's girlfriend," Hermione informed.

"Oh," Cass sighed. Harry had told her about Diggory and the graveyard. _What a fine mess of emotions Cho must have,_ Cass realized. Liking the boy who was with your boyfriend when he was murdered…Cass suddenly felt awful for the girl.

"What do you mean 'oh?' You say that like it clears everything up!" Ron said, looking utterly bewildered.

Harry looked at Cass desperately, as if he hoped she had an answer. Cass felt her heart clench; he was looking to her for sisterly advice! _Well, that would make sense, as I am his…sister._ Cass pushed the familiar disbelief away—it was really quite time she got over that—and said, "Well, obviously, she'll be feeling depressed about Cedric's death. And then very guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry. And then confused as to whether she even wants to kiss Harry, you know, 'cause you're not that popular right now…just saying…"

"Right, and she probably can't work out what she feels for Harry, because he was there when Cedric was killed, so that's all jumbled up and painful," Hermione put in. "Oh, and she's worried she'll be kicked off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly these days."

"That doesn't make a lick of sense," said Ron hopelessly.

"Of course it does," said Cass. "It makes complete sense."

Harry's eyebrows were furrowed, as though he had just listened to Cass and Hermione speak ancient Greek.

"Look, Harry, it's not your fault she was crying. It's not hers, either. It's just…a bad situation," Cass said consolingly. "Did you comfort her?"

"Well, I sort of—erm—patted her on the back," Harry said unsurely.

"That's good," Cass said. _Enough,_ she added silently. She and Hermione exchanged exasperated looks; were all boys this helpless?

"So…is it going anywhere?" Cass asked Harry.

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "Let's talk about the wandless magic you did today. Brilliant work!"

Cass was certain he was only trying to change the subject, but she embraced the new conversation topic for his sake. "Thanks. I didn't expect it to actually work…it scared me."

"Scared me, too," Ron said. "It just came out of nowhere."

"That was a good idea, Cass—to learn wandless magic, I mean," said Hermione.

"Eh, I just thought it would be wicked to be able to cast with only your hands," Cass replied. Something occurred to her then. "Wait, Hermione…how do they trace your magic when you're away from school?"

"Your wand, I think…Cass, you can't! It's illegal!" Hermione said, understanding what Cass was saying.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Are you saying we could use wandless magic outside of school?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, maybe." Cass shrugged.

"No, now that I think about it, you can't. The Ministry has other ways of tracking underage magic…they caught Harry for accidental magic…" Hermione said.

"He blew up his uncle's sister," Ron supplied.

"You blew up your uncle's sister?!" Cass said incredulously, looking at Harry. After she said that, she realized she had forgotten to say 'our.' Uncle Vernon, as unpleasant as he was in Harry's stories, was her uncle, too, if only by marriage.

"Not on purpose!" Harry defended. "Well, it was quite funny…"

"Probably not for her," Cass muttered, giggling. Randomly, her stomach clenched. She brushed it off, intent on enjoying time with her brother. They had a lot of missed talks to make up.

"She was as big as a balloon," Harry said.

Cass snickered loudly. "Did she float like one, too?"

"Yep…if I hadn't been so frantic to get out of the house, I might have doubled over laughing." Harry was smiling. Cass decided she liked Harry's smile—a lot. It looked very much like James's smile in her vision. Identical, actually.

The feeling deep in her gut flared up again. It screamed at her to run, to get out of the room, something bad was going to happen...Cass scanned the common room wildly but found nothing dangerous. Still, the feeling unnerved her.

Ron and Hermione were busy arguing over whether Harry's accidental magic had been funny or not. Harry, though, was looking at Cass questioningly. Worriedly.

Cass shook her head, but she was starting to feel queasy. "Alright, I'm…I'm going to head upstairs now."

"Cass?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I'm fine, I promise. I just feel a bit sick—nothing serious—goodnight, guys…" Cass left the common room. She dashed into her dormitory and into her bed, not bothering to take off her clothes. Pauline was reading in her bed across the room, but Brooke was fast asleep with her hangings drawn. Pauline paid Cass no heed, and even if it was because the girl was being her usual snarky self, Cass was grateful. She didn't want to talk to anybody, much less respond to Pauline's snide remarks.

Cass yanked her shoes off her feet, tossed them on the ground, and pulled her hangings tightly shut. She then pulled off her robes and her pants because they weren't very comfortable in bed. The bad feeling in her gut intensified. Cass was scared—really scared. Like a little baby, she buried herself under the covers and squeezed her eyes shut. If only she knew what this was about…

It came to her so suddenly, Cass was sure a lightbulb had gone off over her head. _How completely stupid of me,_ she thought. Cass sat up in bed and cast her mind forward. Usually, it never worked. Visions came to her, not the other way around. But this time…this time it worked.

And Cass wished with all her heart it hadn't.

_A dark hall was lined with shelf after shelf of glass orbs. A snake slithered down the hall towards a bleeding, red-haired man. The whole scene had a taint, an evilness about it. _

_Flicker. _

_A flash of scales. _

_Flicker. _

_Green eyes and darkness. _

_Flicker. _

_Sickness…wrongness…twistedness…wickedness…Vol…Vol…Vol…_

"_Voldemort,"_ Cass whispered as she slammed back into her body. She peeked out from her covers; it was completely dark in her room. Cass fumbled around for her discarded robes and pulled her wand out from them.

"_Lumos,"_ she said softly. Cass held her lit wand up to her nightstand. Her alarm clock read twelve-thirty. Cass's wand arm shook violently; she was terrified. What had that been about? Who was that man? Cass swung her legs out of bed, deciding to go…where? Dumbledore? Cass bristled at the thought. She _loathed_ him for what he did. But that man had been bleeding profusely…

Cass blindly grabbed her dressing gown from the chair next to her bed. Frantically, she crouched down and searched for her house shoes, but she couldn't find them. Her hands landed on the sneakers she had discarded before climbing into her bed. Cass shoved them on her feet and dashed out the room. Maybe her vision had been one of the future, rather than one happening real-time. Perhaps, if she was fast enough…But as Cass sprinted down the stairs, she realized she didn't even know where it had happened. She felt like screaming in frustration; her visions were worthless if they didn't help her to stop them from happening!

A slight commotion greeted her in the common room. Neville Longbottom, one of Harry's year mates, was leading a very worried-looking Professor McGonagall up to the boys' dormitories. _Why do I get the feeling Harry's involved somehow?_ Cass asked herself. It wasn't really a question; Harry seemed to draw trouble to him like a moth to a flame.

The older witch had a tartan dressing gown on, her lopsided glasses were perched precariously on her sharp nose, and she was halfway up the stairs before Cass called out, "Professor! I had a vision…it was horrible…what is going on?"

McGonagall paused long enough to look at Cass with concern and say, "I don't know just yet, Miss McGarther, but I suspect I'll find out," before darting up the stairs after Neville. For an older woman, she was surprisingly swift. Cass followed her up to the boys' dormitories, taking the stone steps two at a time. McGonagall hadn't said Cass could come, but she also didn't specifically say Cass _couldn't_ come. Cass knew she would have come in any case, as she was quite positive it had something to do with Harry. She would have to give that boy a stern scolding about him somehow worming his way into every type of trouble in a thirty-kilometer radius. Right after she figured out what this was all about.

Cass reached the fifth-year boys' landing and peered through the open doorway. A very sweaty Harry sat in his bed, shaking and a wild look in his eyes. Cass crossed through the threshold and walked over to her brother—for once, in the direness of the situation, disbelief didn't rush through her body as she thought the word—and stood behind Professor McGonagall as she asked Harry what was wrong.

"It's Ron's dad," Harry explained. "He's been hurt by a snake and it's bad—really bad—I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"I dreamt it! Listen, Mr. Weasley is seriously hurt, there was loads of blood, someone's got to find out where he is…"

"He's right! That's what I saw, only I didn't know it was Ron's dad. Please, Professor, Harry's right," Cass spoke up. Now was not the time to wonder how Harry had seen that, but, still, Cass couldn't stop the kernel of puzzlement as she thought about her brother's—that time it did spark some disbelief—dream.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry and Cass with an unreadable expression, then promptly said, "Put on your dressing gown, Potter—we're going to the headmaster."

Quick as a flash, Harry was out of the bed and was pulling on his dressing gown. It was then that Cass realized she was in a boys' dormitory, so while Harry was shoving his glasses on the bridge of his nose, she quickly left the room, red in the face.

The walk to Dumbledore's office was swift, only taking a few minutes. Ron came with them, looking pale and afraid. Cass gave him a comforting smile, but he didn't seem to register it.

"Fizzing Whizbee," Professor McGonagall said to the stone gargoyle guarding the office. It became animated and jumped aside to allow all of them passage to the rising spiral staircase.

Cass, Harry, and Ron trod up the staircase behind McGonagall. Cass kept casting worried glances to Harry; should he be that pale and sweaty? She certainly never got that way after a vision. Or had what Harry seen even been a vision like one of hers? Nevertheless, he was looking far too ill for her liking. Cass stopped that train of thought in its tracks; it was the first time she had felt any sisterly protectiveness of Harry—which was quite odd, as she was four years younger than him…_Not the time, not the time!_

Dumbledore, wearing a royal purple-and-gold dressing gown, was still at his desk when they all walked in, working over a large stack of papers. At their arrival, he blinked once, put down his quill, and said, "Professor McGonagall…?"

Professor McGonagall glanced once at Harry, then said, "Potter's had…well, he's had a nightmare—of sorts."

"And I've had a, erm, vision," Cass added. McGonagall gave her a look that told her she had been getting to that. Cass blushed but didn't look down.

"Were the two the same?" Dumbledore asked in a calm voice.

Harry and Cass exchanged looks. "Well, I don't know about Harry, but mine was more of a feeling…it's hard to describe—like a great evil. I think it was…I think it was Voldemort," she finished in a whisper. Ron gasped sharply, but Cass continued, "It all felt very wrong. I actually didn't get a clear scene of what happened, just flashes, really."

"I got a clear scene," Harry said angrily. "But what does it matter if they're the same? Mr. Weasley is seriously hurt!" He looked troubled; Cass was sure it was because she had mentioned Voldemort.

"Can you describe where you were? I might know of it," Dumbledore said, not looking Harry in the eyes.

"It was a dark hall…" Harry supplied, calming down after seeming to realize measures were being taken to save Ron's dad.

"There were shelves of glass orbs, row after row…" Cass trailed off as McGonagall and Dumbledore gave a start.

"Everard! Dilys!" Dumbledore called. Cass wondered who he was talking to before spotting two portraits—she assumed they were past headmasters—snap their eyes open and look at Dumbledore the same way a soldier might look at his commander for orders.

"You were listening?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of course," answered one portrait, a wizard with short, black bangs.

"Naturally," answered the other, an elderly witch with silver hair.

Dumbledore didn't seem surprised to learn of their eavesdropping, which led Cass to believe they did it often. "The man—young Mr. Weasley's father—has red hair and glasses. Dilys, Everard, spread the word, make sure he is alright, and found by the right people…"

Both the witch and wizard nodded and stepped out of their frame, but instead of emerging into the painting next to them, which was normal for Hogwarts paintings, they simply vanished.

"Everard and Dilys were quite renowned in their days as Hogwarts Heads," Dumbledore said, rising from his desk, "therefore they have portraits hanging in other Wizarding institutions. They can move between their paintings and tell us what may be happening elsewhere."

Ron had a blank look on his face; his eyes had glazed over, his expression was neutral. Cass was sure he must be going into shock. She felt badly for him. It must be hard hearing your dad has been attacked by a giant snake.

"Please, sit down, you three…Minerva, if you could draw up some chairs…? Oh, and please go get the rest of the Weasley children, they'll need to be informed," Dumbledore ordered.

Professor McGonagall nodded curtly and conjured three straight-backed chairs that looked extremely uncomfortable. Cass sat down in one, Harry and Ron taking the other two. Cass mouthed, "Are you alright?" to Harry. He just nodded tensely and gestured with his eyebrows—Cass thought he was asking her if she was okay. She gave him a grim smile.

McGonagall headed out of the office, on her way to get Ginny, Fred, and George. Dumbledore consulted a gleaming silver instrument on one of his shelves and frowned. "She has found out you're out of your beds…"

"Umbridge?" Cass asked, assuming that was who Dumbledore was talking about.

Dumbledore gave her a small smile. "Yes. That was quite perceptive—your mother was the same way," he said warmly. Maybe he felt a bit guilty about what he had done, and maybe this was him trying to make amends. Cass didn't care; she would stay angry with him through all the comments he made about her and her parents. She and Harry had deserved to know about them being bloody twins. Dumbledore seemed to have picked up on her thoughts—something in her face must have betrayed her—and he carried on, grabbing a nondescript tea kettle on his desk and muttering, _"Portus."_

The old kettle trembled and shone blue before resuming its original boringness. "What was that charm?" Cass asked Dumbledore.

"It's used to make Portkeys. Those are magical objects that allow one to travel great distances in a very short amount of time," added Dumbledore at Cass's confused face. The name tugged at some buried memory in Cass's mind—she might have read it somewhere in passing.

"Fair warning, Cass, it isn't the best way to travel—it's a bit unpleasant," Harry informed her.

"Thanks for the warning," Cass said, wondering what Harry meant by unpleasant.

"I have sent a message to Sirius, you will be going to Grimmauld Place; it's more convenient than the Burrow in terms of proximity to St. Mungo's," said Dumbledore.

At the mention of St. Mungo's, Ron whimpered, but Cass barely heard him. She was going to meet Sirius, one of her parents' dear friends, and maybe even the other one, Remus. She felt a brief sense of emotional overwhelming. Cass was worried for Mr. Weasley, feeling sad for Ron and the other Weasley children, confused about Harry and how he saw what was going on, and the dominant emotion was her excitement over meeting Sirius and Remus, which in turn made her feel slightly guilty—shouldn't she be more upset with the situation than excited over meeting Sirius?

All that must have played on her face, for Harry gave her a tight-lipped, comforting smile. It was a little uncertain, either from the situation or the newness of having a sister, but it was genuine. That in itself made Cass feel better.

The door to Dumbledore's study opened and in came Fred, George, and Ginny, all looking disheveled and still half-asleep.

"Harry—? Cass, what are you doing here…? Ron—what's going on?" asked Ginny, who looked alarmed.

"Your father has been injured while working for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore. The Order…Cass recalled the name from the last time she had been in Dumbledore's office. She knew it was a secret society who fought Voldemort, but not much more than that. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Maladies and Injuries. You all will wait back at Sirius's house, your mother had been informed—you must go now, I'm afraid our Ministry friends won't be happy with you out of your beds…"

"_All_ of us? What is she doing here?" Fred demanded, looking at Cass. Other than Ron and Hermione, no one else knew about Cass and Harry. Cass was positive that was about to change—soon, it was likely all the Weasley children would know.

"You must hurry—before the Ministry interferes…come, Mr. and Mr. Weasley…Ms. Weasley…You have all used a Portkey before?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," Cass said.

"Except you, Ms. McGarther," was Dumbledore's exasperated reply. The nerve of that man! Exasperated with her, after what he did? Cass knew that now was not the time for that, though, so she gathered around the tea kettle with the others.

Everyone, except Dumbledore, of course, touched the kettle with one finger. Feeling ridiculous, Cass did the same, though while everyone else only made contact with one finger, she grabbed the handle firmly; she didn't want to get lost in…whatever they were about to go through.

"One…" Dumbledore started counting down. Cass felt anxiety rip her stomach to shreds; she had never traveled this way before, it was frightening. "…two…" Harry suddenly seized up beside her and Cass got a strong sense of hate from him—wait, she had never felt people's emotions before… "_…three!_

Cass was lifted off her feet and into a whole different, wild, and spinning universe. A hook plunged itself deep into her gut and yanked—_yanked_—her away from Dumbledore's office. Her fingers, still wrapped around the handle, felt glued to the kettle with the kind of glue that stuck forever. Cass was banging into the bodies of the people around her painfully, her entire world a swirl of vibrant color and screaming wind. She might have shrieked in fear if she hadn't been so surprised with it all—

Cass hit the ground with such force that her knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground in a heap, landing on Ginny's right arm and desperately grabbing onto a sleeve—she thought it might be Harry's—to regain balance. That only resulted in pulling Harry down with her, who in turn pulled George and Fred down. All the children were dumped on the ground in a right mess.

"Ouch, sorry," Cass said, climbing gracefully—well, as gracefully as she could, tangled around so many bodies as she was—to her feet.

"That's alright," Harry said. "I've never had a smooth landing."

They were in a gloomy kitchen with no windows. Its rank smell of old mildew made Cass crinkle her nose in disgust. The only source of light came from a fireplace and a flickering candle; it illuminated the remnants of a simple dinner of what looked like mashed potatoes, chicken, and peas.

A hoarse voice reminiscent of a bullfrog said, "Filthy, blood traitor brats, back again…and who is this…? Nasty, foul creature she is…How dare they disgrace the ancient House of Black with their awful presence—"

"KREACHER, OUT!" shouted a second voice.

A dark-haired man came into view. He was still in day clothes, even though Cass was sure it was well past one in the morning by now, and had a haggard look about him. Cass's breath hitched; she knew this must be Sirius.

He came rushing into the kitchen, worried, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Cass. His bluish grey eyes sparkled with tears as he looked at her. Cass heard Harry's sharp inhale next to her, but her eyes pricked before she could rush over to Sirius.

_A lone man sat in a dark cell. The smell of death reeked in the poorly lit room. A blackened, dead hand reached for him, but he stared back defiantly…_

"Cass—_Cassandra?_" said Sirius, a look of wonder on his face.

"Do you know what's happening?" Cass heard Fred whisper to George behind her.

"Not an inkling, brother," replied George.

"It's just…it's just Cass," Cass said, not knowing what else to do. Hesitantly, she walked over to Sirius, Harry close behind her.

"Just Cass…I like it. Cass," Sirius said, as if testing it out. "I'm Sirius," he introduced himself.

"Like the star?" Cass asked, recalling the name from Astronomy.

Sirius grinned at her. "Yes, exactly like the star," he answered promptly, seeming pleased Cass had recognized it.

"You have your mother's face, her eyes…your father's hair…I'm rambling," Sirius said, grimacing. There was a slightly strangled sound behind Cass. Ginny was looking at her, Harry, and Sirius with astonishment, her mouth slightly open.

"Have my ears gone wonky?" Fred asked.

"Fred, I think mine have, too…Sirius, you knew Cass's parents?" George asked.

"Cass, _you_ don't even know your parents…?" said Ginny, clearly puzzled.

"Erm…they were…sort of…kind of…Harry's parents," Cass said slowly, letting it sink in.

"What?" Fred, George, and Ginny said in unison.

"What's happened?" Sirius asked suddenly. "I heard Arthur was hurt…? Dumbledore didn't say much, only that you six would be coming over."

"Nuh uh, you can't change the subject like that," said Fred.

"You're all barmy! Cass is James's and Lily's daughter? Mental!" said George.

"They're—well, they're _dead_," said Ginny gently.

"She isn't lying, and she isn't mad," Ron spoke up. "It's the truth—and just look at them! They're nearly identical!"

"Can we please focus on this later—you know, after the crisis has been handled?" Harry said loudly.

At his words, everyone fell silent. Ginny's face contorted into awful worry, and Cass, despite the discomfort it caused her, wished Harry had kept the conversation of them being twins going, if only to distract the Weasleys.

"What has happened?" Sirius asked again.

Fred opened his mouth, but George gave him a firm shake of his head and said, "I care more about Dad right now than the absolute rubbish they're giving us."

"Yes, I would like to know, too," said Ginny.

"Well, I—sort of—had this nightmare, only it wasn't a nightmare…it was a vision—of sorts…" Harry said, shrugging helplessly. "In it, I saw a giant snake attack Mr. Weasley, and then I woke up in a right fit."

Ginny whimpered, so Cass walked over to her and gave her a hug. She flinched back a bit, stared at Cass oddly, but tentatively allowed her to embrace her. _She probably thinks I'm mad, _Cass realized. Ginny ended the hug after maybe three seconds, which Cass tried very hard not to be offended by.

"And Cass? Aside from being Harry's—_twin_—" Fred's unnecessary emphasis on the word showed just how much he believed them, "…how are you involved in this?"

"Well, I had a vision, too. I had felt—I dunno, _wrong_ after we came back from the D.A. meeting, almost like I knew something bad was about to happen—"

"And you didn't say anything?!" George accused loudly.

Cass winced at the venom in his voice and had to remind herself that the Weasleys were going through a horrible thing right now to stop herself from retorting. "I didn't get a vision until later—I'm not omniscient, you know. Anyway, in bed, I felt really scared for no reason, and then I Saw what happened—only it was more broken up than what Harry saw—and I ran downstairs to try and get help, but McGonagall was already there."

"What do you mean, 'broken up?'" Ginny asked.

"Like, I didn't get a clear scene—it was more feelings," Cass answered.

"Which feelings?" Sirius asked with a note of trepidation in his voice.

"Bad ones," Cass replied, and she left it at that. No need to trouble them with the horrible, unnatural, sickening, evil…_Calm down, Cass,_ she told herself.

"I get you having a vision, Cass, but what about Harry?" questioned Ron.

"That's what I'm confused about…Harry?" said Cass, looking at her—at her brother. The thought still felt like a car hitting a bump in the road. It had only been four days since Dumbledore told them…it felt like an eternity since she was searching for her parents.

"Erm, I don't know what it was. What do your visions—er—feel like?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm usually looking down on the scene—is that what yours was like?"

"No…I was—I was looking from the perspective of the snake," Harry replied, looking ashamed.

"Oh," was Cass's answer. "Did your eyes sort of…prick hotly? As though you were looking into—_somewhere _—else?"

"No, no, it was my scar—it felt like it was burning," said Harry, who looked nervous. Cass hoped he didn't blame himself.

"Your scar?" Sirius echoed, a troubled look on his face.

"Yeah…" Harry trailed off. Cass wondered what Harry had seen. It certainly hadn't been like any vision she'd ever had.

"Now that that's all cleared up—" Fred snorted; it was in no way cleared up. George continued, "—we're going to see Dad."

"Right, so, if you could just give us some Floo powder—" Fred began, but he was cut off by Sirius.

"You can't, boys, I'm sorry. Dumbledore wanted you to stay here until your mother comes—how could we explain you showing up at the hospital when you were hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts? If not for Harry and Cass, you probably wouldn't even know anything right now," said Sirius. Cass thought that was unfair of him; shouldn't they be able to see their father? The Ministry already knows about Cass's Seer abilities—no doubt Umbridge would have told them the minute the barest rumor graced her pudgy ears—so why keep the Weasleys away? They could say Cass had Seen it. By Sirius's dissatisfied look, he was thinking the same thing, but he was listening to Dumbledore's orders. _Dumbledore. It always comes back to Dumbledore and his manipulative means—old codger!_ Cass thought furiously.

Despite the protests of all the Weasley children, and a couple from Cass and Harry, Sirius remained adamant, even though it looked like it pained him. So, they all waited in the downcast kitchen, the smell of rotting walls in their noses, and the tortured look of anxiety on their faces. Cass felt out of place as she watched the Weasleys. She felt it was insensitive to not worry about Mr. Weasley, but it also felt pretentious to be worrying over someone she didn't even know. And it felt intrusive of her to be with Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George while they twitched nervously, scared for their father. She suspected that Harry and Sirius felt the same.

It also felt very awkward around Sirius. It would have been hard talking to a godfather—if he even _was_ Cass's godfather—she never knew she had, but in this situation, surrounded by anxious silence, it was torture, plain and simple. Cass often caught Sirius looking at her with an almost tender look on his face, but it also could have been disbelief, or regret, or sadness…it was quite unreadable, actually.

To take her mind off things, Cass asked Harry about his vision—if it was, in fact, a vision—some more. It confused her, and something told her to investigate it further—or maybe she was just curious. "Harry, have you had visions before?"

Harry looked up from the random spot he was staring at on the floor and replied, "Er, sort of. I had a lot of weird dreams last year."

Last year…the year Voldemort came back. Cass filed this away, thinking it was too suspicious to be coincidence. "Maybe it runs in the family…Sirius, did our parents get visions?"

"No, not that I know of. Though Lily always seemed to read people like a book—she was special that way. I think it was more seeing the best in people rather than anything magical," he replied. Cass smiled at this bit of information about her mum, and her mind's eye imagined her kissing it and hugging it to her chest, as if Sirius's words were a teddy bear. Anything about her parents made her feel that way. Like she was slowly compiling a list of things that defined who they were. She stored it lovingly in a metaphorical pile in her head and then focused again on the matter at hand. "Hmmmm…has your scar always hurt when you have these…er…dreams?" That was the bit of information that some hidden instinct begged her to pay attention to.

Harry looked sharply at her. "Actually, yeah. Yeah, it has," he said. He frowned. "That's really odd…"

Cass was starting to realize something. Harry's scar, his perspective…it was all adding up to equal something very strange and frightening. "Harry," she said slowly. "Have your visions always been about Vol—"

The was a whoosh of flames and a red-haired, plump witch was deposited on the dingy hearthrug. In an instant, everyone was up and crowded around the woman, reaching down to help her up. The woman—Cass assumed she was Mrs. Weasley—had an exceedingly kind face and motherly manner about her. She hugged each of her children to her tightly, murmuring consolations into their ears.

"He's alright, he's sleeping. Bill's with him now, we can go visit later, when your father's awake," said Mrs. Weasley. She gave each of her children a weak smile before her eyes landed on Cassandra.

"Oh. _Oh,"_ she said. "My goodness, you _do_ look like your mother!" Fred, George, and Ginny all did a double take. "Come here, Cassandra dear, no need to be shy, I want to meet you," Mrs. Weasley said, spreading her arms.

Cass smiled and went over to her. Mrs. Weasley, despite how pale she looked, gave a wan smile back and embraced her. Cass melted into it; it was very comforting to be in a mother's embrace, even if it wasn't her grandmother's or her own mother's, which were both quite unattainable at the moment.

"Look at the resemblance! When Dumbledore—that man, always secrets when he's around—told us, I nearly fainted! But, oh, how could you two _not_ be? Fred, George, Ginny, close your mouths, the flies might get in. Now, I hope you didn't give Harry and Cassandra a hard time when they explained it to you, it's really—although it pains me to admit—all Dumbledore's fault for keeping it from them," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum, you're joking!" Fred exclaimed.

"Fred, this is _Mum_ we're talking about. She doesn't condone any sort of pranks!" George said.

"You guys are brother and sister? Are Mr. and Mrs. Potter alive—?" Ginny cut herself off at the depressed looks on Cass's and Harry's faces

"No, erm, Harry and I are sort of, kind of, maybe a little bit, er…twins," Cass said, smiling sheepishly.

Fred, George, and Ginny stared dumbly at her. "You see, Dumbledore decided to take Cass forward in time because of this rubbish prophecy…" Harry explained their story. By the end of it, Fred, George, and Ginny were looking between Cass and Harry wildly, back and forth, like watching a tennis match. Cass felt awful and wished they hadn't told them at such a bad time—their father was in the hospital, for goodness' sake! But, when she thought about it, it was better than sitting there, worrying. Nothing like a startling discovery to keep your mind off things.

"Sirius, I expect you'll be wanting to talk to Cassandra?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Mrs. Weasley, you can just call me Cass," said Cass.

"Very well, then. How about you talk with Sirius while I make some breakfast—you and Harry both?" Cass, Harry, and Sirius nodded before heading out of the room.

This was going to be interesting.

OoOoO


	21. Resentment and Regret

**DISCLAIMER: JKR owns anything recognizable, but I own everything else…which is Cass and the plot. If you ask me, it's totally better than the billions of dollars Rowling's made…yeah…uh-huh…**

**A/N: Hellooooo! Welcome back to my channel—oh, shoot, wrong intro. Haha, as if I had a YouTube channel. Anyhow, thanks to all who followed and added this story to their favorites. 'Preciate ya! Enjoy!**

OoOoO

As Cass, Sirius, and Harry trudged up the stairs and out of the basement kitchen, Cass compiled a list of things she would ask Sirius: What was James like? What are your hobbies? Do you have any family? What is your _life_ like?

All those questions died on her tongue when they sat down, though. Sirius had led Cass and Harry to a small sitting room with green, paneled walls and three mismatched chairs that looked considerably newer than the rest of the run-down room—Cass assumed the chairs had recently been put there after the Order moved in. She took her seat in an upholstered chair and waited for Harry and Sirius to sit down.

An awkward silence descended upon the three. Cass frantically searched her mind for something to say, but all those questions had dissipated from her mind like snowflakes in an ocean—the ocean being her shock with seeing Sirius in this metaphor. There just wasn't a proper way to start conversation with your dead parents' best friend—who also happened to be the godfather of your twin brother—who you didn't know existed until a few days ago—who is, impossibly, four years older than you—who also has a nutter after his head. _Dumbledore's a right foul git,_ Cass thought acidly.

Harry cleared his throat. "Hear, hear," he agreed bitterly, leading Cass to realize she had said that aloud. _Oops,_ she thought, though she wasn't ashamed of her words in the least.

"If you had said that a few days ago, I would've gone off like a rocket, but now…now, I only have a stronger choice of words," said Sirius, scowling.

"Sometimes, I wonder why he did it—keep it from us," Harry said, looking down.

"I wish I could tell you," Sirius said. Something about his tone made Cass believe he had lost sleep over questioning Dumbledore's actions. _At the very least, we have some common ground to bond on,_ Cass thought, immediately feeling depressed that they were only now getting to know each other. If there was any justice in the world, she would have known Sirius since the day she was born, grown up with his jokes, been assured by his advice, and unable to think of life without him. _Well, fresh out of justice, and now I can't even think of a life _with_ him. _That thought sent spikes of sadness into Cass's heart.

"I think he was ashamed of himself," she murmured quietly, referring to Dumbledore.

"He should be," said Harry, a hard edge in his voice.

"That's no reason to keep something like—like _this_ to himself," said Sirius, shifting in his dark red, padded couch. "What he did, it's…irreparable. Both of you, don't ever forgive him; he doesn't deserve your forgiveness," he added imploringly, looking them both in the eye. Cass noticed how haunted his eyes looked, the dark memories swimming behind them driven deep.

"Wasn't planning on it," Harry said, just as serious as Sirius.

"I won't. Not ever." Cass thought she caught a look of pride in Sirius's eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on behind those infuriating, twinkling eyes," Sirius mused sourly. Surprise flashed fleetingly in his dull eyes, apparently for his harsh words. A second later, Cass could see clear resolve in them. Sirius had meant what he had said, clearly.

"I dunno, but whatever goes on, it's fit for a mental institution," Cass muttered, her mouth twisting into a frown.

Sirius chuckled.

"You know, Lily said something like that to me once—that I belonged in a mental hospital," he said.

"What did you do to get her to say that?" Cass asked, curious. She tried to ignore the excited, squirming feeling that shot through her chest at the mention of her mother.

"Well, I was drinking with your dad back in our post-Hogwarts, pre-war days, and there was this old car filled with—er—this is not a story appropriate for young ears," Sirius finished awkwardly, flushing red.

Harry watched Cass's and Sirius's exchange with a look that suggested he was staring out into a twilight zone. Cass gave him a sympathetic look; talking to his godfather and long-lost twin sister must be…odd, only odd wasn't nearly a strong enough word. She wished things had turned out differently, if only so she didn't have to look at Harry's mingled expression of heartbreak and disbelief.

"After all I've been through, Sirius, I think it should be considered middle-aged," Harry said jokingly, seeming to snap out of his bewilderment.

Cass didn't know how to respond to that. Harry _had_ been through far too much. And she hated everyone who put him through it. Even in the five days of knowing him—_really_ knowing him, not just going to clandestine Defense meetings with him—Cass felt as though she'd known him for a while. Maybe not her whole life, but long enough to say with complete certainty that someone as good as Harry didn't deserve the cards he had been dealt.

Sirius's thoughts seemed to be going in the same way as Cass's. "I'm sorry you've gone through so much—I wish…God, I wish James and Lily were alive so they could look after you—I'm doing a rubbish job…"

"They _are_ looking after us," Harry said with conviction. Sirius glanced at him, eyes shining, and seemed to take strength from Harry's words. Cass smiled softly at Harry, his statement warming her heart.

"Thanks for that, Harry," Sirius said in a near-whisper, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips.

Harry gave a small nod of his head.

"It's just…I wish I could have been there for both of you. I wish I had known about you, Cass, and I wish I could have saved you, Harry, from those bloody Dursleys. I wish…I wish you hadn't lost your parents—I miss them. Merlin, I _miss_ them. And I'm afraid I can't do nearly as well as they could have done," Sirius finished sadly, glaring at the floor in a resentful kind of way, as though the dirty rug was responsible for all the misfortune that had befallen them.

Cass and Harry glanced at each other, then at Sirius. Something passed between them, and they both wordlessly got up and went over to sit on either side of him.

In the thick silence of the room, Cass heard Harry swallow loudly. "It's not right, what Dumbledore did, what Voldemort did…" At the mention of Voldemort, Sirius peeked at Cass, perhaps to see how she reacted to the Dark Lord's name. It had never phased her, though, so she kept listening to Harry.

"…or what _Wormtail—_" Harry spat the name out, "—did. I wish I could have known you and Cass my whole life, but…I haven't. And that—that is a bloody injustice," said Harry. Cass felt water pool in her eyes; Harry had just said he wished he had known her his whole life. It made her heart swell with something close to happiness, but it also made it heavy with regret for all the lost time.

"It wasn't just Dumbledore, or Voldemort, or Pettigrew," Cass whispered, her voice thick with tears. She sniffed and took in a shuddering breath, telling herself resolutely not to break down. "It seems like the whole world kept us apart. It wasn't enough for me to be sent forward, _they_ had to die, too—they had to die in _front_ of Harry. And it wasn't enough for Sirius to lose his best friends, he had to go to Azkaban—to that awful place—for twelve years. It's as though the whole universe stacked cards against all of us…but now I want to play an entirely different game of cards. I want to get to know you, both of you, and Remus too. I don't want to let the rubbish universe win," Cass finished, but despite her strong words, she felt as though a hole had been drilled through her heart. Saying it aloud…Cass hoped it would be therapeutic in the long run, but right now, she felt defeated. Dejected. But also incredibly determined to salvage the wreckage of what could have been if only…ah, but there were so many things that they all lost. It was with that thought of purpose that Cass suddenly hugged Sirius, surprising herself.

Initially, the embrace was very stiff and awkward. But then Sirius hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. He held her as though he couldn't believe she was real, tangible, alive, and in his arms. Cass just buried her face in Sirius's robes, into this small piece of comfort, and tried to come to terms that she was hugging one of her dad's best friends. He had grown up with James, laughed with him, cried with him, gone on adventures with him…it was surreal. And moreover, it felt nice.

For a moment, there was only the unsteady breathing of everyone that filled the room. Then, Sirius finally said, "That was very well said, Cass."

"I meant it," she replied, breaking off from the embrace.

"Rubbish universe—hex me if _that_ isn't true," Harry said, looking at a section of the paneled wall.

"Don't ever say 'hex me,' Harry. With your luck, a hag will come out of the armoire and do just that," Sirius advised dryly.

Cass sniggered for a few seconds while Harry gave Sirius an annoyed look.

"So, Cass, tell me about yourself," Sirius demanded suddenly.

"Where do I start?"

"What do you like to do?"

"Drawing. I like to draw," Cass supplied.

"Are you any good?" Sirius asked.

"I'm fair, I guess—"

"More than fair. She's brilliant, Sirius. Drew me a picture of my—our—mum and dad. I wish I had it on me so I could show you," Harry interrupted, wincing slightly as he corrected himself.

"How do you know what they look like?" Sirius asked, head tilted slightly.

"I Saw them," Cass replied simply, the corners of her lips lifting slightly as she recalled the image of James and Lily.

"You can See the past…?"

"Yeah…didn't Dumbledore tell you? You didn't seem surprised when I told you about my vision earlier…"

"He didn't tell me you could See the bloody past!" Sirius exclaimed irritably, rubbing his right eye with the palm of his hand. He muttered obscenities under his breath.

"Seems like he has a habit of forgetting crucial details like that," Cass said sourly. Harry and Sirius looked down; she had to remind herself that they had known Dumbledore for much longer than her, had trusted him with their lives before Cass had even heard of magic. The reminder just made Cass that much madder at Dumbledore, for he had betrayed that trust, ripped it to shreds, and then hadn't even given a proper explanation. Only, "I did it for your protection." Cass scoffed inwardly; he should be worried about _his _protection, now.

"Well, that's pretty brilliant. Must come in handy, you know, reading people," Sirius remarked.

"Yeah, handy…" Cass said mildly, remembering how she had found out the truth in the first place.

"My turn. What do you want to know about me?" Sirius asked.

Harry looked Cass in the eyes and mouthed, "Hidden talents," without making a sound.

Taking Harry's suggestion, Cass said, "How about…hidden talents?"

Sirius grinned widely. Cass's eyes pricked, sending stars deep into her brain that carried her to…_somewhere_ else. A place she was quite familiar with, by now.

_A dark-haired man sitting on a couch morphed into a large, black dog with intelligent eyes and patchy fur. _

Cass blinked away the vision, trying to hide her surprise. Sirius could change into a dog! How was that even possible…?

Sirius was still grinning. "Well, it isn't anything too secret, but—" and suddenly, it wasn't Sirius sitting on the couch, it was the black dog from Cass's vision.

Cass didn't even blink in surprise; of course, she had already known that was going to happen. She did smile brightly, though, and scratched the dog behind his ears. "Hey, Sirius," she said, suppressing a giggle when the dog's head cocked to one side.

"Sirius is an Animagus," Harry informed, smiling, "and his animal form is Padfoot, this little thing right here." Cass glanced at him with her eyebrows raised; this dog was far from little. Now that she thought about it, she was sure Harry had mentioned Sirius being an Animagus before. "But you don't seem very surprised," Harry remarked, eyes glinting mischievously.

"I'm not," Cass replied, smiling broadly. Padfoot gave a very human, very exasperated shake of his canine head. He then barked happily and laid down with his large head in Cass's lap. Cass laughed with joy, making the dog's tail wag merrily. Harry watched the scene with a disbelieving expression on his face and a small smile on his lips.

"This is wicked!" Cass told the dog earnestly. She shook her head; magic would never cease to amaze her. Not ever. It was incredible, wondrous, breathtaking, awe-inspiring, and it made impossible things possible. Like turning into a dog, for instance.

"This is just…just brilliant, Sirius!" Cass exclaimed, petting Padfoot tenderly on his shaggy head.

Padfoot lifted his head, tongue sticking out cheerily, and jumped to the ground. Midair, his limbs elongated, his snout shortened, his hair shrank, and there stood Sirius, a showman-esque look about him and a joyful glint in his eyes.

"Why, thank you," he said, bowing and flourishing his arms dramatically.

Harry grinned. "Showoff," he muttered cheekily, but he was still smiling.

"Sorry, Harry, didn't catch that?" Sirius said, eyebrows raised.

"I said, uh, Great Scot…er, that was amazing," Harry covered half-heartedly.

Cass snorted. "Brilliant save, Harry. Truly, I am awed," she said sarcastically.

"Shut it, you."

"Pretty generic retort."

"Generic, huh? No, I think a better word would be classic."

"Classic is the Beatles…not you and your poor choice of comebacks."

Sirius chuckled loudly. "Quit it, you'll give me a headache—or a worser one than I already have."

"Sorry, Sirius," Harry said, flashing a grin at Cass.

Cass smiled back, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness. Their bickering had felt so natural just then. She hoped that, eventually, she and Harry could talk without any awkward tension. The notion pushed her lips into a wider smile.

"Your dad was an Animagus, too," Sirius told Cass once she returned her attention to him.

"What was his form?" Cass asked, longing for another piece of her father.

"Oh, Cass, he was magnificent. A powerful stag—we called him Prongs, you know, for his antlers," Sirius said, smiling wistfully—and a little sadly.

"My Patronus is a stag, like he was," Harry said, an extremely proud glint in his eyes. Cass understood it, surprisingly; she too would be proud if she had something of her father like Harry did. _I have his hair,_ Cass thought, pulling up a mental image of James's hair color. _I have Harry, _she realized. The thought put a bittersweet smile on her lips. She had a living, breathing piece of her parents. Cass suddenly felt a huge weight lift off her chest, though what was weighing her down, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was not having anything of them, but now she realized she _did_ have something of them: her brother.

"Could you show me, Harry? Your Patronus?" Cass asked hopefully, trying to hold on to that feeling of knowing her parents.

Harry halfway took his wand out before stopping himself. "No, I'm sorry. Underage magic," he offered as an explanation, giving Cass a unhappy look.

"Oh, right." Cass could have cursed herself out in words stronger than 'treacle tart' and 'macaroni.' _Obviously he couldn't show you! _she screamed at herself. She wasn't mad at her mistake, though. It was the fact that she couldn't see Prongs, and wasn't that sad? _Getting upset over a little Patronus, honestly,_ Cass thought sourly, not understanding where this pain was coming from.

Something must have shown on her face, some hint of bitterness, or anger, or grief over people she had met, because Sirius said quietly, "Your mother and father were good, _good_ people."

Cass waited for him to go on, seeking words of comfort. He didn't, though. The way he sighed helplessly at the ground indicated he wanted to, but he couldn't find the words. Cass hoped he didn't keep searching for them; she didn't think there _were_ words for this situation.

"Here, come on. I want to show you guys something," Sirius said after a moment or two, walking over to the door.

Harry got up and went to the door after him, but Cass had to consciously tell her legs to stretch out and stand. Where was this coming from? She wondered if someone had cast a spell over her to make her feel depressed. _No, it's because you can't ever, ever, ever, ever meet your parents._ That sad truth hit her in the chest, but she ignored it and got up, cursing the stupid drops of water that filled her eyes.

"Cass?" Sirius asked, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

"I'm fine. I just wish I could've—I'm fine," she repeated, stopping herself from completely voicing her wish. Sirius awkwardly squeezed her shoulder, gave a hopeless—in any other situation, it might have even been comical—glance to Harry, and then gingerly pulled her into another hug.

Cass sighed; she really wasn't the type to get all emotional—well, unless it was righteous anger. But the hug felt quite nice, doubly so when Harry joined it, just as awkward and tense as her and Sirius. _Bloody Dumbledore and his conniving, twinkling, ugly, blue eyes,_ Cass cursed in her head for what seemed like the millionth time. It very well might have been. But she admitted to herself that she couldn't keep blaming Dumbledore for everything (although, the entirety of the blame _did_ fall on the crooked-nosed git) and she should instead get to know the people her parents had loved. And maybe…hopefully…eventually…she would love them, too.

"What did you want to show us, Sirius?" she asked, breaking the hug. She felt relieved it was over, then felt guilty for feeling that, then wished she were still hugging Harry and Sirius. _Bloody emotions fancy themselves as roller coasters!_

"Right, it's—er—upstairs…in my old bedroom," Sirius said, blinking.

"Wait, you lived here?" Cass asked.

"Yes, I'd forgotten you didn't know. This was my parents' old house—they were awful, by the way. Complete and utter purists with no respect for anything but noble blood," Sirius explained, a look of disgust twisting his lips.

"Bet they were real proud of you," Cass deadpanned, thinking of how good of a person Sirius seemed. She was sure the people he'd just described weren't the type to congratulate a benign consciousness.

Sirius chuckled darkly. "I was their golden child," he replied sarcastically.

"I'm sure," Harry said in the same sarcastic tone.

Cass shook her head, marveling at…well, at everything. She was talking—sarcastically and jokingly, she might add—to Sirius Black, a Ministry-proclaimed criminal, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. It was almost enough to push her to hysterics, but she refrained from succumbing to that urge. That would be undignified, and that certainly wasn't allowed.

Without another word, Sirius led Harry and Cass up two flights of stairs and down a poorly lit hallway. He turned left into a doorway, and they arrived in a bedroom.

A red-and-gold flag—Cass was certain it was to represent Gryffindor House—was hung on the right wall, there were two nightstands next the four-poster bed, and a window with faded curtains in the moderately large room.

"Here it is, room sweet room," Sirius said dryly, gesturing to the old room.

Cass thought it wasn't too bad, actually. From Sirius's description of his parents, she had expected bars on the window and blood stains on the walls. Okay, well, maybe her imagination had run a little wild there, but Sirius's room could have been worse.

"I found this while I was rummaging around in some old boxes. It's…well, here your go," Sirius said, handing Harry a photo.

Cass leaned over Harry's arm—he was a lot taller than her—to look at the photograph. It showed a group of school age kids under a large oak tree. They all wore Hogwarts robes, and although it was in black and white, Cass could see the lion embroidered on the front of all their robes, telling her everyone was in Gryffindor. The children in the photo all waved merrily, flashing smiles and rolling their eyes at their friends. Towards the right side of the picture were a young James and Sirius, along with two other people Cass had never seen before. She knew the taller, more tired-looking one to be Remus Lupin, which meant the other one had to be Wormtail. Cass shoved down feelings of fury at the traitor so she could focus on finding her mum.

Cass finally spotted her on the other side of the picture, red hair flowing gently down her shoulders and eyes that screamed intelligence, even in a photograph. Cass lightly brushed her fingers against her mother's face, her heart cracking, and smiled down at the young Lily.

"This was taken in our sixth year. That was the year Lily finally gave James the time of day—our last year was when they started dating," Sirius murmured.

Cass shot him a grateful look, but Harry seemed too engrossed in the picture to hear Sirius's words. He had a tiny smile on his face, his lips just lifting up, and his eyes shone.

"They were so…so…" Cass paused, searching for the right word. "Beautiful," she finished, knowing it didn't begin to cover the innocence and youth of her parents in that photograph. They had yet to witness the horrors of Voldemort, and Cass wished with all her heart they, miraculously, never had to.

"Yes, yes they are," Harry agreed, finally looking up from the small piece of paper. Cass didn't have the heart to correct him. _It's 'were' Harry. Not 'are.' They're dead, _her mind whispered to her, challenging her to deny it. Cass didn't, only letting herself acknowledge it and try to resist the useless tears.

"Sirius?" Harry said, his mood changing from wistful to worried so fast Cass raised her eyebrows.

"What is it?"

Harry gulped. "There's something…something isn't adding up. About my…nightmare, I mean. And there's something else."

A crease appeared between Sirius's eyebrows. "Harry, tell me what's bothering you."

"Back in Dumbledore's office, right as the Portkey activated, I felt—I felt _hatred_ towards Dumbledore. I mean, way more than I have been feeling these last few days. I wanted to kill—I wanted to _bite_—it was so sudden, so intense…"

"It must have been the aftershock of your vision, that's all," Sirius said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It was still fresh in your mind, you're exhausted—"

"It wasn't that," Harry said in a tone that told them he believed his words. "It was like something came up inside me, like there was a monster _inside_ me—" Harry took a trembling breath. Cass noticed his hand clench in an anxious way, so she gently pried the photograph from his fingers and set it on Sirius's dresser.

"You need to sleep, Harry," said Sirius firmly.

Harry shook his head, apparently giving up.

Cass took in the tortured expression Harry's face and decided to mention what she had felt from him in Dumbledore's office. "I felt your anger, Harry. That's never happened before—never. I get visions, but I don't feel the emotions of people around me."

Harry looked up, befuddlement etched into his wan face. "You could feel what I was feeling?"

"Only in that moment," Cass replied, pondering what it meant.

"That's common for Seers," Sirius said, nodding, "feeling other people's emotions, I mean."

"I've only ever felt Harry's, and that was one time," Cass said, frowning pensively at this new information.

"It's probably because you're young—your abilities haven't manifested completely yet," Sirius reasoned.

"Right," Cass agreed, nodding her head at the logic.

Harry still looked pale and worried; Cass glanced at him concernedly. Sirius must have noticed his godson's demeanor, too, for he said, "Reckon Molly's got breakfast ready by now. Let's go eat, and then both of you are going to bed."

Cass smiled to herself at his fussing, thinking it was a very natural thing to do. She followed him out of the room, nudging Harry with a light prod of her toe to his shin in order to snap him out of his apparent reverie.

An unbelievably delicious smell drifted up the stairs. Cass's stomach rumbled loudly, and her mouth watered. She had had a long night of unease and tension and disbelief, and it seemed those emotions, along with her intense vision, had sucked all the energy from her body.

"Harry, Cass dear, I have some eggs and bacon on the table—Ron, you'll choke if you continue eating like that!"

Cass and Harry exchanged amused glances as they walked into the kitchen. The breakfast was steamy and good, and was gone in about three minutes, tops.

As Cass put down her fork, Mrs. Weasley walked over to the table, looking at Harry and Cass.

"Thank you, thank you, Harry—and you too, Cass. If not for you two, Arthur wouldn't have been found and then—then it would have been too late…" Mrs. Weasley's face twisted into horrified sadness for a second before she shook her head and continued, "I am so grateful for you two."

Cass smiled as the matronly witch gave her and Harry a pat on the cheek. "I'm glad he's alright, and I can't wait to meet him," she replied, forcibly reminding everyone in the room how new she was to all of this—how new she was to the wizarding world. _Only four months in and already I've found out I have a twin, my birth parents are dead, my twin brother—who, against all logic, is four years older than me—is the center of a prophecy, there's a Dark Lord yearning for his blood, and I've been a part of a secret, illegal club. Oh, and I almost forgot, I'm a powerful Seer. _ The fact that she had _forgotten_ one of the jaw-dropping things that happened to her was almost frightening—and it definitely spoke volumes of her experience with the wizarding world. Her grandparents would likely call the nearest mental institution when she told them everything. Nevertheless, when she examined her feelings, she found she was happy with all the crazy twists—well, not the ones involving Voldemort.

"Everyone, Bill's just Floo called; Arthur is doing well, but the Healers say he'll be sleeping for a few more hours. Best you all get some sleep in the meantime, I expect your trunks will arrive later," Mrs. Weasley announced as the kids lined up to dunk their dirty plates in the soapy sink water.

"Thanks for the breakfast, Mrs. Weasley," Cass said to the older witch, who smiled at her as if to say, "It was nothing."

"Up, up! Merlin _knows_ how tired you all must be…Ginny, if you could lead Cass up to yours and Hermione's room? She can sleep in Hermione's bed, I'm sure she won't mind…"

Ginny looked at Cass awkwardly, gave her mum a fleeting look—though fleeting as it was, Cass was still sure it had been annoyed—and led Cass up a flight of cracked stairs. One step was missing a big chunk, forcing Cass to step carefully over it—there were all types of creepy, crawly things in the hole, and she didn't fancy having her shoes swarmed by bugs. On the wall hung several plaques with house-elf heads on them, and simple letters underneath telling Cass their names.

"I would say you get used to them, but you really don't," said Ginny, shooting Cass a relatable look.

Cass gave the older girl a slightly disgusted look in return. She wrinkled her nose at the dank, putrid smell of abandonment that seemed to seep from the very walls of the house. All the way up the stairs, she couldn't shake the ridiculous notion that the elf heads were staring at her behind her back. _Just listen to yourself, Cass. Honestly, you're being squeamish!_ Cass thought to herself. Keeping that thought in mind, she smoothed her face into indifference and drove away those ludicrous ideas.

They reached the first-floor landing and headed left down a dark hall. Ginny stopped in front of a worn-looking door with an old-fashioned, overly ornate gold handle.

"This is us," said Ginny, opening the door. It was dark in the room, but Ginny flicked the lights on, illuminating the space. There were two beds, each on opposing sides of the room, two nightstands with drawers, and one patchy, pale blue rug under the moth-eaten curtains.

"There's Hermione's bed," Ginny said, yawning widely and nodding her head to the bed on the right.

"Thanks."

Cass unlaced her tennis shoes and laid them at the foot of the bed. Before she could melt into the old comforter, though, Ginny said, "I can't believe Dumbledore hid that from you."

Cass looked at the red-haired girl wearily. "Yeah, well, the man's gone senile," she said with complete seriousness.

Ginny's eyes widened a fraction before she burst out laughing. Cass thought it was louder than her non-joke strictly required, but joined her, if only for something to laugh at.

"I'm sorry, it's just…mental all that's happened in the span of four hours or so," Ginny said, shaking her head, a dazed expression on her face. "I mean, you and Harry—? I can hardly process it—I can't even imagine what you must be feeling."

"Numb, mostly," Cass said honestly. "But Harry's great—we spent _hours_ insulting a Dumbledore head I drew on a bit of parchment…"

"Really?" Ginny asked, grinning.

Cass scratched her head in a very intentionally suspicious way. "No, of _course_ not," she said emphatically, to show that they had indeed done just that. It had been the Saturday night after they had found out, but it hadn't been for _hours_; Cass had embellished it a bit for comedy's sake—it looked like Ginny could use some laughter.

"What a mental image—you and Harry yelling at a piece of parchment with our headmaster's face on it…" Ginny said, sniggering.

"Yeah—" Cass suddenly yawned hugely, a reminder at how little sleep she had gotten.

"We should go to sleep," Ginny said, suppressing a yawn herself.

Cass only nodded her head in agreement, too tired to reply. She had only had enough time to put on her dressing gown at Hogwarts, so she just slipped that off and climbed into bed, already in her pajamas.

"'Night, Ginny," she said, flicking off her bedside lamp and setting her wand on the nightstand.

Ginny laughed softly. Cass understood why it would be funny; it was around five-thirty in the morning, not a suitable time to be wishing people goodnight. Cass's last coherent thought before entering the world of sleep was: _Grandma Joyce would have a conniption fit if she knew how late I'd stayed up…_

OoOoO


	22. Worries and Assurances

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine…Oh, that's mine. No, that one isn't…Most of it isn't mine…No, I'm not stealing anything…Well, maybe a bit of rearranging is going on…Yes, of course it's legal… **

**A/N: Helloooo! Almost 100 people have added this story to their favorites! Thanks, everyone! As a side note, this chapter took a lot of hard thinking. I want to make everyone's reactions to Cass as believable as possible, and that is the main reason for the late update. I apologize, but I'll have lots more time to write now that it's summer in the States. That means faster updates! Yay! **

**Additionally, to those who have read my other story, **_**In a Moment of Need**_**, I owe a BIG apology to you. That story is…complicated, because the first few chapters were written with a loose plot outline, and posted with the intent to drive away quarantine boredom. I didn't realize how fast it would grow, and now I'm panicking because it has over one hundred followers waiting for an update that hasn't happened in a month. Eek…but what I'm trying to say is that I'm ironing out the plot a bit more, so an update for that story will be coming soon. Sorry, again! **

**Enjoy!**

OoOoO

Harry sighed and rolled over in his bed, exhaustion begging his eyes to close while anxiety forced them to stay open. He couldn't shake the fear that if he went back to sleep, he would become the snake again. He would try to _kill_ again. The thought turned his mouth sour. It made him want to get up and pace, or talk to Sirius, or ride his broom. Not to lay there, in his warm, comfortable bed, and feel guilty about what he had done. Because, despite Sirius's assurances, he felt it _was_ his fault.

So, while everyone else in the house caught up on some much-needed sleep, Harry tried to focus on anything other than his…whatever it had been. Naturally, his talk with Cass and Sirius came to mind. He didn't know what to feel, other than anger at Dumbledore, of course. It had been very discombobulating talking with them, as though he was looking at the world through a fractured and multicolored lens. His godfather had been talking with his long-lost twin sister. That in itself had been odd, but throw in the fact that Cass was four years his junior and he had only known Sirius for two years, well…it all became very confusing and disconcerting.

Harry sighed again, but what he really wanted to do was scream. A week ago, life had been relatively normal—well, as normal as it got for Harry Potter, at least. _Just goes to show that life can always catch you unawares and unprepared,_ he thought bitterly. _Especially when Albus Too-Many-Names Dumbledore is involved. _At the thought of the headmaster, Harry's heart constricted both with anger and hurt. He had trusted Dumbledore, defended him even in the face of death, only for the old codger to withhold information that was his by right. For four—effing—_years_, Harry had placed his faith in the man. It was infuriating. He felt his fingertips warm, but Harry clenched his hand into tight fists. That had been happening more and more often lately. He assumed it had something to do with the resentment that had become his constant companion. Resentment towards Umbridge, resentment towards the _Daily Prophet_, resentment towards the Minister, and now resentment towards Dumbledore.

Several times, Harry had considered changing the D.A.'s name, because he couldn't bear the thought of teaching in Dumbledore's name, but then he realized how much trouble Dumbledore would get in if they were ever found out. After all, it wasn't 'Harry Potter's Army,' now was it? If the Ministry ever found out, the sole blame would fall on Dumbledore. Although it pained Harry for things to have changed so abruptly and irrevocably between them, it also gave him satisfaction when he visualized the headmaster being apprehended.

There was a loud knock on the door. Then, Mrs. Weasley's muffled voice sounded through it.

"Harry, Ron, wake up, dears. We've been cleared to visit Arthur."

Harry pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing nap as Ron sat up in bed. In a flash of motion that was surprising coming from the usually slow-to-wake boy, Ron had gotten out of bed and slipped on his dressing gown. Harry felt pity for his friend; it must be horrible, going through all this. Words of comfort withered away on his tongue, though, when Harry thought about how it was all his fault Ron was going through anything in the first place. Instead, he only followed a hurried Ron out the door, guilt worming in his stomach and squeezing his heart.

Harry and Ron met the others going down the stairs. Ginny, seeming to have gotten over her shock at the truth rather quickly, was talking animatedly to Cass. Cass smiled and nodded her head, green eyes devoid of any exhaustion. Harry smiled inwardly; at least she had gotten some sleep.

That thought made Harry's steps falter a second. In the five days of knowing the truth, he had never quite figured out how he should feel about or act around Cass. Should he be protective, or just let her be? Should he be brotherly, or would that just be too soon? If Cass ever had any crazy ideas, should he talk her out of it or encourage her to have fun? Harry felt extremely uncomfortable with being the big brother—to a point where he, admittedly, avoided thinking about it. He just didn't have any experience with…well, with _anything_ in the sibling field. Dudley, although older by a couple months, had never been any sort of brother-like figure to Harry. _In fact, _Harry thought dryly,_ he has been quite the opposite._ So, the prospect of being a brother didn't sit well with him. It wasn't Cass, it was just…inexperience. And that frightened him.

The smell of tuna sandwiches interrupted Harry's thoughts. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a heaping platter of sandwiches for lunch. At the table were Tonks and Mad-Eye. Tonks, sporting her usual short, pink hair, was craning her neck, apparently looking for something. Harry had a fair guess at what—or rather, who—that might be.

His inference was proven correct when Cass walked in and Tonks jumped up, tripped, then ran over to the first-year. Cass looked mildly amused, but not flustered, which didn't really surprise Harry. He was certain she had inherited his—_their_—mother's well-known collectedness. _Lucky her,_ he thought dryly.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said while she passed him, grinning. Mad-Eye watched Cass with something close to suspicion, which Harry decided not to focus on.

"Ooh, you look exactly like I thought you would—except for your hair. I thought you would have Lily's red hair," Tonks said. Harry fought to laugh at her first words to Cass; it was, funnily enough, almost identical to the way she had first greeted him.

"No, but she has her face. And her eyes," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling endearingly at Cass from the table, where Fred and George were shaking their heads, slightly agape.

"James's eyebrows," Sirius added matter-of-factly from where he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Cass raised her eyebrows at the room. Harry had to battle with his lips to keep them from shooting upwards at her slightly exasperated expression. He had been on the receiving end of such comparisons for quite some time now.

"I'm Tonks." The bright-haired witch stuck out her hand.

"Cass," Cass returned, shaking Tonks's hand.

"Hmm…Dumbledore didn't mention you had a nickname…" Tonks said musingly.

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore didn't mention a lot of things, did he?" Ron grumbled into his tuna sandwich.

"Ronald Weasley, you keep that talk out of your mouth, you hear me?" Mrs. Weasley admonished sternly, brandishing her wand.

Sirius muttered something Harry didn't catch under his breath, but whatever he said made Mrs. Weasley shoot him a scathing look.

"Sit down, girl, I want to ask you about this…gift, is it?" Mad-Eye growled, ever suspicious.

"It's Cass…sir," Cass said. Even with the respectful 'sir' added, her response definitely had a cheeky undertone. Harry grinned while Tonks sniggered and Sirius gurgled into his coffee cup. Mrs. Weasley gave Cass a slightly condescending look but didn't say anything.

Mad-Eye's magical eye zeroed in on Cass in a penetrating sort of way, no doubt looking for nonexistent details that would somehow proclaim her an imposter. Seemingly finding none, Mad-Eye huffed and said, "How does it work?"

"I'm not sure, actually. I get this sort of pricking in my eyes—like someone has suddenly shined a bright light in them—and then I—erm—See something," Cass explained, a crease between her brows and a faraway look in her eyes.

Mad-Eye looked as though all his dreams had come true. Coming from the heavily scarred man, it was quite terrifying. "Useful, isn't it, for discovering Dark wizards?"

"I've never come face-to-face with a Dark wizard, but I'm sure it would be—"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" shouted Moody, making everyone at the table jump except Cass, who was pressing her lips together, an amused glint in her green eyes.

Harry suddenly understood why she had gotten a faraway look in her eyes earlier—she must have been Seeing Moody shout.

Moody looked distinctly satisfied.

"Glad it's working properly," he said gruffly, looking absolutely fascinated. Harry wondered if maybe he had done that on purpose as a sort of test. He found he was not okay with the idea at all, for Moody to go testing Cass randomly and without reason

Harry's hands paused as he brought up his tuna sandwich. There it was again, that distinctively brotherly feeling. He brushed it off, deciding to focus on seeing Mr. Weasley and not his jumbled ball of confusing emotions.

Cass sat down next to Harry, smiling, and took a sandwich off the platter. Her eyes scanned his face, and then she shook her head. "Harry, sleep isn't a bad thing," she murmured.

For a split second, Harry was filled with overwhelming confusion. Then he realized she must have been talking about the fact that he hadn't slept at all during the morning. It took him another second of bewilderment to realize she had had a vision. _I don't think I'll ever get used to that,_ he thought.

"It is if you turn into a giant, vicious snake," Harry said despairingly.

Cass gave him a funny look. "You didn't turn into a snake—you saw through the snake's eyes. There's a difference." Her voice was low. Harry was glad; he didn't want the others listening to their conversation.

"You don't get it—I _wanted_ to kill, to bite…" Harry trailed off, sighing angrily.

"I believe you. I just don't think you turned into a giant snake," said Cass, surprising Harry. He had been sure she would try to convince him his feelings hadn't been real.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"Well, for starters, even if you had turned into a snake, you wouldn't magically teleport to London. Also, I Saw Sirius turn into a dog before it happened, so I'm fairly sure I would See you turn into a giant snake," she reasoned matter-of-factly.

Harry mulled that over. At that moment, the table bench indented, and Harry looked over to see Sirius sitting on his right.

"Good morning, Potters," he said cheerfully, looking absolutely giddy at his greeting. Harry thought it had a nice ring to it himself.

"'Morning," Cass replied brightly. "Though, it's not really morning anymore."

Sirius stared at her for a second, blinked, then said, "It's not, is it? Ah well—er—how did you two sleep?"

Harry resisted the urge to wince at Sirius's awkwardness, but, in all honesty, he couldn't really blame him. He, Harry, didn't even know how to feel about things, and that was after five days of talking with Cass. Sirius had only talked to her once, a couple hours ago. It was disconcerting to see his usually cool and collected godfather flustered. _Then again, _Harry thought sourly,_ it's a bit disconcerting to learn you have a twin four years younger than you._

"Like a baby," said Cass, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and frustration—that last bit was probably directed towards Dumbledore.

"Well enough," said Harry, glancing at Cass. She lifted her eyebrows marginally but didn't say anything.

"Brilliant…" said Sirius ungainly.

There was a loud snort from across the table. Tonks was shaking her head, a fake look of disappointment on her face.

"My, my, Cousin, I didn't think you would ever lose your cool," she said, feinting shock.

Sirius shot her a disgruntled look.

"You guys are related?" Cass asked.

"Yes, she's my second cousin—mother's side. And _you _try being in my position, _Nymphadora,_ see how well you fare," Sirius added to Tonks.

"Don't call me Nymphadora!" protested Tonks crossly.

"Serves you right," said Sirius righteously. Harry thought he didn't like being called out on his awkwardness, and he didn't blame Sirius. He didn't blame Tonks either, as she was likely only trying to diffuse the palpable tension. The only person he did blame was Dumbledore, for not telling anyone. The familiar feelings of betrayal rose up inside Harry, but instead of concentrating on them, he decided to change the subject.

"How are we going to get to St. Mungo's?" he asked, brushing crumbs off his fingers.

"A train ride," replied Moody in his growling voice. "So make sure you dress appropriately—I don't want to attract attention in the Muggle world."

"You won't," said George.

"Not one bit," added Fred.

Next to Harry, Cass grinned. Harry thought he knew why; Mad-Eye's magical eye will stand out like a sore thumb _anywhere_ in the Muggle world.

"Cass dear, are you finished with your sandwich—No, no, I'll bring it over to the sink—just stay seated, dear—Harry, you're finished, too?" Mrs. Weasley whisked away their plates, giving them both a pat on the cheek, and dropped them in the sink. Immediately, a sponge sprang to life and started scrubbing them clean.

Ron was just finishing his fourth sandwich when there was a flash of flames above him, and a yellowed envelope landed on his plate.

"Oh, Ron, give that here. It's from Professor Dumbledore—he's saying there have been no leads on the snake…Oh, it looks like Hermione might be joining us for Christmas…" Mrs. Weasley murmured to herself as she read the letter, standing behind a startled Ron.

"Christmas!" Cass said, making Harry turn to look at her. "Where am I going to spend Christmas…?" It looked as though she was talking more to herself than to Harry.

Cass turned to look at him. "Er, Harry? Would you maybe like to meet my grandparents…I don't want to spend Christmas without them—or you…"

Sirius brightened. "Cass, I would be happy to have them over for Christmas dinner. You can spend the morning with them, and then come over later…we'll need to elongate the table, of course, but that's no problem…"

Cass smiled cheerily. "Thanks. Yeah, I'll tell them…Holy macaroni, are _they_ going to be surprised when I explain things…"

"Holy macaroni?" Sirius echoed, a puzzled look on his face.

Cass blushed. "It's what I use to curse—food, I mean…Er, one time my grandma caught me using a curse word from an old film—she was in a right fury—but my grandpa said if I was going to curse, I might as well use something important…my first thought was food…" Cass finished with a red tinge to her cheeks.

Sirius barked a laugh. "I can't wait to meet your—er—your grandparents," he said.

Everyone else looked really confused. Apparently noticing this, Cass hurried to explain. "Joyce and Jimmy McGarther raised me after—well, you know. They're not really my grandparents, but I think—after putting up with me—" the way Cass smiled showed she was only joking, "—they deserve to be called my family."

"That's very sweet, Cass dear. It'll be a delight to meet your grandparents," Mrs. Weasley said, still standing behind Ron. Harry found himself growing rather excited at the prospect of meeting Jimmy and Joyce McGarther. To meet the people Cass had grown up with.

A few moments passed while everyone cleaned up their dishes. Mrs. Weasley having already taken Harry's plate, he simply got up and walked over to his trunk. Wishing he could just levitate it, Harry lugged it up the steps.

"Cass dear, do you need help with that?"

Harry turned around, confused. The twins were at the foot of the stairs, talking to Cass, who was also bringing her trunk upstairs. That wasn't what confused him, though. It took a moment for him to realize it was Fred who had asked Cass if she needed help. Harry laughed softly; Fred's impression of Mrs. Weasley had been quite good.

Cass gave the twins a skeptical look. "I don't fancy having my trunk jinxed, so I'll think I'll pass," she told them, climbing the first few steps of the stairs.

"Us? Never!" George—or maybe it was Fred—exclaimed in a hurt voice.

"How could you even think such a thing?" Fred—or maybe it was George—said mournfully, shaking his head.

Cass rolled her eyes at Harry. Without turning back to face the twins, she said, "I didn't think it—I Saw it."

Fred and George exchanged mischievous looks. Harry watched the scene with mild amusement. Suddenly, Fred chucked a coin at Cass's head. Before a warning could leave Harry's lips, Cass ducked her head and the coin soared over her dark locks. Unfortunately, that meant it was zooming towards Harry. Years of Quidditch kicked in, and Harry snatched the coin from the air, scowling at the twins.

"Wicked, Georgie," Fred commented.

"Didn't even turn around," George remarked.

"Brother, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yes, I think I am."

And without another word, the twins Disapparated with a _pop!_

"Nice catch," Cass told Harry, grinning. "The joke's on them, though. They lost their coin."

Harry shrugged. "It's a chocolate coin," he said, feeling how squishy it was.

"Of course it is," said Cass, sighing exasperatedly. Then, without warning, she dashed up to Harry's step and smacked the chocolate coin out of his hand. It went flying over the banister before exploding into green goo midair.

Harry heard faint sounds of disappointment from a couple floors up. "Thanks," he said to Cass, glad she had saved him from the green glop made from who knows what.

"No problem. Honestly, though, it's as if they don't realize I'm a Seer."

"That's probably what appeals to them," said Harry. Knowing the twins, that was exactly why they wanted to prank Cass—to say they had pranked a Seer.

Cass winced. "Wonderful," she deadpanned.

They walked up the rest of the stairs, then parted ways to go get dressed in their rooms. Harry quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Ron was already in their room, shrugging a brown jacket on. After lacing his tennis shoes up, Harry crossed the hall and brushed his teeth in the bathroom. A few minutes later, he had gathered in the hall with everyone else, waiting quietly for Mrs. Weasley to come out of her room.

Cass and Ginny were whispering in low tones, barely a sound escaping their lips. Cass smiled at something Ginny said, nodding her head energetically. She wore jeans, a green hoodie, and had tied her curly hair back into a French plait.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley came down to the hall, a red purse hanging from the crook of her arm, and ushered everyone out the doors, holding a finger to her lips to keep them from making too much noise. Sirius waved at them from the doorway, a look of longing on his face. Harry wished, for maybe the billionth time, that his godfather's name could be cleared so he wouldn't have to be a prisoner in his parents' decrepit house.

Moody urged them forward, magical eye searching broadly for signs of danger. Tonks kept up a continuous stream of questions for Cass about the Muggle world. Cass answered them politely, but after the fiftieth question, a monotonous, bored edge entered her voice. Harry struggled not to laugh at her predicament.

Instead, he talked to Ron about how Umbridge must be infuriated that six students had left Hogwarts under her nose. Ron kept the conversation from veering in the direction of Harry's vision, for which Harry was grateful for. He wasn't completely convinced he hadn't turned into a giant snake, even after what Cass had told him.

The group took a train to get to St. Mungo's. Harry wondered how wizards had managed to hide an entire magical hospital in the middle of bustling London, but then reminded himself that they had hidden an entire governmental building under a telephone box. A hospital had probably been lightwork.

They stepped off the train into a jostling crowd. Cass, being the shortest and smallest, had the most difficulty staying with the group. Harry grabbed her shoulder to keep her from being swept away in the sea of people.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly.

"Of course," Harry replied, leaning to the side to avoid colliding with an elephantine woman.

The group emerged onto a street. Mrs. Weasley did a quick headcount to make sure they hadn't lost anybody. After determining that everyone was there, the group started down the street.

"Here we are," grunted Moody as they arrived outside a large, old-looking, red brick clothing shop. Peeling letters above the doorway declared it to be Purge and Dowse Ltd. Cass had pressed her face up to the glass to see in, cupping her hands around her eyes.

"Nothing too interesting in there," she told Harry, shrugging, just as clueless as he was.

"Of course there isn't, it's an illusion," Tonks informed Cass matter-of-factly. Cass's expression turned indignant. "Everybody ready?"

Harry nodded his head even though he didn't know what he was supposed to be ready for. He half expected Cass to get a vision and tell him what was going to happen, but then he reminded himself that she wasn't omniscient.

Tonks leaned close to the glass, looking straight at a very ugly mannequin dressed in a nylon green dress, and said, "Wotcher, we're here to see Arthur Weasley."

Harry watched in awe as the dummy gave a tiny nod and beckoned its jointed finger, as if to say, "Come on in."

Tonks grabbed Mrs. Weasley and Ginny by the elbow and stepped with them _through _the glass. Cass's mouth had fallen open in shock, but she quickly closed it. A smile danced across her lips as she watched the three ladies vanish through the window, and she promptly skipped through, seeming awed. Harry had to admire her courage.

Fred, George, and Ron stepped through after them. Harry spared a glance at the crowd—not one of the people had noticed that seven people had just melted into a glass pane—before he stepped through the glass.

It felt like walking through a sheet of cool water. Harry felt his ears pop as he emerged on the other side, warm and dry.

Before Harry was a completely different scene than the glass window had displayed. The group had come to a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat on simple wooden chairs, many with odd ailments. Harry noticed several people were covered in brightly colored warts, pimples, and rashes. A sweaty-faced wizard had a horn sprouting out of the bridge of his nose, and one witch with a pixie cut was glowing a nylon pink that hurt Harry's eyes.

Harry noticed Cass looking around the room with wide eyes that sparkled with amazement. Harry imagined himself as a first-year, looking at this place, and thought he might have a similar reaction. After a few seconds, she seemed to notice her expression, and she hastily rearranged her features into a milder look.

Mrs. Weasley and Tonks led the group over to the receptionist's desk. A blonde witch with a bored look in her eyes directed witches and wizards to where they needed to be, often with a sarcastic remark or two.

"Hello," Mrs. Weasley greeted the witch. "We're here to visit my husband, Arthur Weasley. Could you tell us—?"

"All of you?" asked the witch, raising eyebrows that looked to be filled in with crayons.

"Yes, yes, all of us," Mrs. Weasley said sharply, looking annoyed.

"Arthur Weasley, you said? He should be…" the witch ran her finger down a list, "…yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you," Mrs. Weasley said crisply. "Come on, you lot…I'm sure Arthur's awake by now…"

As they walked off in the direction of the Dai Llewellyn ward, Harry distinctly heard the words, "So many…I could _never_," in the receptionist's voice.

The group made their way to Mr. Weasley with much haste. Harry could tell the Weasleys were really scared for their father, and he couldn't help but feel guilty, even if it was irrational. After a few moments of walking along corridors that were lit by candles floating in bubbles near the ceiling, they arrived in front of a door that bore the words _Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites. _

"We'll be outside, Molly. Arthur won't want too many visitors at one time—maybe just the family first?" Tonks suggested.

Moody grunted his approval at the idea, and both Cass and Harry backed up to let the Weasleys through the door. However, Mrs. Weasley reached out a hand to Cass's and pulled her through the door with her, saying, "Don't be silly, Cass, Arthur wants to meet you…Harry dear, you come, too. Without you two I shudder to think what might've happened…"

Harry followed Cass and Mrs. Weasley into the ward. It was small, lit only by a high window and more soapsuds with candles in them. Mr. Weasley was at the far end of the ward, propped up with fluffy, white pillows and reading a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's firstborn, was by Mr. Weasley's side, leaning over his shoulder to read the _Daily Prophet_ as well. When Bill saw everyone, he said something to Mr. Weasley and stood to hug his mother.

"Oh, Bill, you look tired! Did you get any sleep at all last night? Arthur, how are you?" Mrs. Weasley said, bending down to give Mr. Weasley a kiss on the cheek. "You're still looking a bit peaky…have your Healers been checking on you properly?"

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Yes, dear, they have. I feel absolutely fine," Mr. Weasley replied, holding out his arm to hug Ginny. "Is she here?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at him and nodded her head towards Cass. Bill looked interestedly at Cass, seemed to recognize her, and then quietly observed her. Cass made her way over to Mr. Weasley and smiled at him.

"I'm Cass," she introduced herself, taking care to hold out her hand to Mr. Weasley's good arm.

"My goodness, the resemblance is uncanny! You _do _look like—"

"Arthur!" warned Mrs. Weasley.

"—like—er—your parents," Mr. Weasley finished in a softer tone. "You have your mother's eyes," he remarked, shaking his head unbelievingly. "It's very nice to meet you, Cass."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Weasley," Cass replied, smiling.

"Bill Weasley," Bill introduced himself, sticking out his hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you," replied Cass. "You're the cursebreaker, right?"

"That I am," confirmed Bill.

"Ron told me about you," Cass supplied.

"Aww, Ronnikins is proud of his brotherkins," Fred said, clutching his heart. George pretended to wipe away a tear.

"Shove off," Ron told the twins.

"Boys," Mrs. Weasley said threateningly.

"Sorry, Mum," chorused Fred, George, and Ron.

"Dad, how much longer do the Healers say you have to stay here?" Ginny asked.

"It'd be for only a few more days, if only they could take these bandages off."

"Why can't they take them off?" asked George.

"Well, I start bleeding madly every time they try," said Mr. Weasley. "It seems there was some rather rare type of poison in that snake's fangs—keeps wounds open, it does…I'm sure they'll find its antidote soon, but in the meantime, I have to take a Blood-Replenishing Potion hourly," finished the Weasley patriarch. "Bloody, dirty snake," he muttered under his breath. He then looked worriedly at Mrs. Weasley, but she apparently hadn't caught his last statement. Harry thought, amusingly, that Mr. Weasley seemed distinctly relieved.

"That's not bad at all—" Mrs. Weasley started, but Fred interrupted her by snapping his fingers loudly.

"That's it! The snake! Say, Harry, didn't you tell us You-Know-Who's got a snake? A massive one? Remember, you said you saw it the night he returned—"

His apparent epiphany was cut short as Mrs. Weasley cast a silencing spell on him with a quick jab of her wand. "Fred, we are not discussing this here!" she snapped, removing the charm only once Fred begrudgingly nodded his head.

"Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, and they want to see you. And _you_ lot can wait in the hallway," Mrs. Weasley added, giving Fred a hard glare.

Harry and the rest of the kids filed out of the ward, passing by Tonks and Mad-Eye, who were walking into the ward. Fred and George were talking conspiratorially to each other in low voices.

"They're definitely hiding something," George announced once Mrs. Weasley had closed the ward door rather firmly.

"It doesn't take much to see that," Cass remarked pointedly.

"Yeah, way to state the obvious," said Ginny.

Fred and George paid them no heed. "If only there were a way to hear them…brother, if you will?" said Fred.

George stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of flesh-colored string and earpieces.

"Here, put these in your ears," George said, passing out the Extendable Ears.

"What are they?" Cass asked, examining hers.

"Extendable Ears. Let's you hear things from a distance," answered Fred, sticking the string under the door.

"Designed them ourselves," said George proudly.

Cass looked impressed, but she said, "So…we're eavesdropping?"

"Cass, you helped save my dad's life. If anyone deserves to eavesdrop on him, it's you and Harry," George said.

Cass apparently debated with herself for a minute, but evidently her curiosity won, and she sat down on the floor and stuck her string under the door. Harry was already listening.

"…they searched the whole area, but they couldn't find the snake anywhere," Harry heard Tonks whisper. "It just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur."

"But You-Know-Who can't have expected his snake to get into the department, can he?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry heard a creak of a bed; Mr. Weasley must have shifted.

"I reckon he sent the bloody beast as a lookout," Moody grunted, "'cause he's not had much luck so far, has he? No, so I'll bet he was trying to get a better picture of what he's facing, and Arthur just got in the way…So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Which one?" asked Bill, a slight edge of disbelief in his tone.

"The one who doesn't routinely get visions," answered Moody in a growling voice. "And keep your voice down, boy…if the wrong ears heard you…"

"Alastor, it's quite alright. I've already cast an obscuring charm—anyone who doesn't know us won't hear a thing," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Neat," said Tonks.

"Right, well there are always ways to circumvent those charms, aren't there? Best we don't discuss _that_ particular matter…Dumbledore seems intent on keeping it from You-Know-Who, and I agree," growled Moody.

In his mind's eye, Harry imagined Tonks rolling her eyes.

"Anyway, Alastor, to answer you're question, yes, Harry says he did see everything through the snake's perspective," said Mrs. Weasley uneasily. "You know, Dumbledore talked as though he was expecting something like this to happen…"

"Yeah, well, there's something funny about Potter, I know that," Moody growled.

Cass gasped angrily and bunched her hands into fists. Harry might have thought her demeanor was funny coming from a first-year had he not been so offended by Moody's words.

"Mad-Eye…" Bill trailed off.

"You know it's true! I mean, the boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake…Obviously, he doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him—"

Harry ripped the string from his ear, heart pounding and lungs letting out a shocked breath. Cass looked at him, startled, but continued listening to the adults in the ward. She gestured for him to do so as well, but Harry didn't want to hear more. Rolling her eyes, she yanked his earpiece from his hand and stuck it in his ear herself.

"…can't be, can he?" Tonks asked in a barely audible whisper.

"Dumbledore seems to think he could be—no, that's not it. He thinks You-Know-Who's got a connection to Harry. Something that runs deeper than that Hallowe'en night," Mrs. Weasley answered fearfully.

"Of course he does," Moody growled. "But what?"

"That, I believe, is what concerns Dumbledore," Mrs. Weasley murmured.

There was a ripple of wooden creaks, and the children realized the adults must be getting up from their chairs. Hastily, everyone took the Extendable Ears from their own ears and shoved them back into George's hands. George then stuffed them unceremoniously into his pocket. Harry and the others were doing their best to look natural as Bill, Tonks, and Moody came out of the ward.

"Mum's going to stay with Dad for a bit longer," Bill told them.

Harry nodded, barely processing his words. He felt dirty, contaminated. Voldemort was possessing him. Harry _had _been the snake, he _had_ attacked Mr. Weasley, he _was_ evil…Harry suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

Cass looked at him worriedly and shook her head, her eyes wide. _From fear,_ Harry thought, feeling infinitely sad that he had ruined their relationship after just five days. Cass seemed to read his face, and instead of backing away from Harry in terror of him, she put her hand consolingly on his arm.

"I don't think you're possessed, Harry," she told him quietly. The group was making its way back to the reception area. Harry and she were at the back, so no one could hear them.

He didn't say anything, feeling only repulsion towards himself.

"Harry," Cass said firmly. "I don't think you're possessed," she repeated.

How could she say that? It all made clear sense to Harry; Voldemort had possessed him, turned him into a snake, and sent him off to London to maim his best friend's dad. Harry shook off Cass's arm, afraid he—or rather, the monster inside him—would hurt her.

Cass sighed. "Harry…"

"No, please. I don't want to hurt you," Harry whispered.

"You won't."

"You don't know that; Voldemort could—"

"Actually, yeah, I do know that," Cass interrupted. Harry shut his mouth; right, she _would _know things like that.

But that didn't take away from the fact that Dumbledore seemed to think Voldemort was possessing him. Harry realized that was why he hadn't been looking into his eyes all year. The one time Dumbledore had was in his office, right before Harry, Cass, and the Weasleys had left for Grimmauld Place, and Harry had felt only intense anger and hate for Dumbledore. It all made sense…

"Harry, you are not possessed!" Cass whispered furiously, shaking her head.

"How can you tell?"

"Harry, have you been having blank periods?" a voice said right next to him. Harry jumped; he hadn't seen Ginny come up to him.

"What?" he asked, still surprised at her sudden appearance at his side.

"When I was being possessed by You-Know-Who, I had blackouts where I wouldn't remember where I had been for the last couple hours. Has that happened to you?"

Harry looked at her, remembering that she too had been possessed by Voldemort. Ginny had an eyebrow cocked and a slightly angry look in her eyes. "I forgot that…"

"Right, well, I didn't," Ginny said coolly.

"I'm sorry," Harry told her, and he meant it. "And, no, I haven't had those…blank periods." The group had reached the outside of the hospital, and they were now making their way through a crowd of Muggles. Harry felt like quite the idiot. How could he have forgotten about Ginny?

"If you haven't had those, then you've never been possessed by him," Ginny stated.

Harry hardly dared to believe her words, yet his heart was lightening despite his worries.

"And, Harry? I get this feeling whenever I get a vision about Voldemort—this sick, twisted feeling deep in my gut. I don't get it with you…Well, there _is_ something, but it's not as strong…Truthfully, Harry, there is something connecting you to Voldemort. I don't know what," Cass looked as though it frustrated her to admit this, "but it isn't possession."

Harry considered this. He had to admit, he could handle what Cass had said. Although he didn't like the idea of something connecting him to Voldemort, it made sense. His scar always flaring up when he's around, his dreams…however little explanation there was to those things, there was no denying that they had happened. But…

"That dream I had—I was inside that snake. It was like I _was_ the snake…What if Voldemort somehow transported me to London—?"

"You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts," Cass said, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "I'm pretty sure I've heard Hermione say that _at least_ ten times," she added, giving Harry a shrewd look.

"But—"

"You didn't leave your bed, mate," said Ron, who seemingly materialized out of thin air next to him on the train seat.

"How long have you been here?" Harry asked, surprised again.

"Not long, I just happened to catch the gist of what you were talking about," Ron replied, shrugging.

"Can everyone hear us?" Harry asked, worried that the adults might figure out they had eavesdropped.

"Nah, Moody's gone off on a rant on how that bloke over there—" Ron gestured to a Muggle with a black suit on and a briefcase in his lap, "—is a Death Eater spy…I'm pretty sure Tonks and Bill aren't paying a lick of attention to him, just sort of exchanging eye rolls now and then…"

"Is he always this paranoid?" Cass asked, glancing at Moody.

"Yes," answered Harry, Ginny, and Ron in unison.

"Anyway, you never even left your bed. I saw you thrashing around in your sleep about a minute before we could wake you up," said Ron.

Harry let himself digest their words. Could they be right—? What they were saying was not only comforting, but it also made sense…Almost unconsciously, Harry loosened the shoulders he hadn't known had tensed up and gave his friends—and his…twin (it was still very numbing to think that)—he gave them a small smile.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded.

"I'll take it," said Cass, smiling brightly at Harry.

"Merlin, you two look alike. How did we not see it before…?" Ginny asked, mostly to herself, as she blinked several times disbelievingly.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno," he answered honestly.

"Maybe because it seems impossible—or at least very, _very_ improbable," said Cass.

"No more mind-shattering secrets for a while, okay? Seriously, you two, I don't think I'll be able to take it," Ron said.

Harry and Cass glanced at each other.

"No promises," said Harry.

"Might be a bit difficult," said Cass.

They shared another glance between them, and then they both laughed softly, if a bit surrealistically. _Absolutely, barking mad, Dumbledore is…_Harry thought. But now, thinking about how Cass hadn't shied away from him even after she heard what Moody said, he wasn't only mad at Dumbledore from keeping this secret from him.

He was angry that Dumbledore had kept such a good person from him.

OoOoO


	23. A Werewolf and Some Chaos

**DISCLAIMER: JKR hasn't transferred me any money yet, so I guess I still don't own Harry Potter. It can't too terribly hard to cast an Imperious Curse, right…?**

**A/N: *shamefully peeks out from behind a wall* Hellooo, everyone! I'm sorry about the four-month-late update. Oof. Yikes. I've just been dealing with a lot and I was not motivated and . . . yeah, I know it wasn't nice of me. Thanks for all the support, though! Wow! Almost thirty more followers in all that time of not updating, what did I do to deserve you all? Don't be too mad! Sorry, again! **

**But anyway, we're not here for apologies, and I suspect you all don't much care for them, so I'll get to writing! Enjoy! **

OoOoO

_A dark-haired boy chased a red-haired girl down a torchlit hall, grinning mischievously. _

"_Evans, come on! It's my birthday, you have to give me _something!_" the boy told her, jutting out his lower lip pleadingly. _

"_How about…hmm…a point from Gryffindor for annoying me all the time?" the girl suggested sweetly. _

"_Don't be ridiculous, prefects can't take away points…" _

"_Can't they?" The girl gave the boy a sly look and turned on her heels sharply, walking off…_

Cass's eyes opened, greeted by a wall of black darkness. Ginny's soft, deep breathing filled the air, just a meter or so over to Cass's right. Cass blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes to the dark room. No light aided her, though, so she simply closed her eyes again and thought about her dream.

She was completely sure it had been her mum and dad in it. She hadn't been able to compare James's face to Harry's while having the vision, but she did so now and was met with confirmation; it _had_ been James in her vision, and Cass recognized the redhead as her mother, so it had been her parents bickering together.

She was slightly surprised and how similar she was to Lily. Cass could imagine herself making the exact same remarks as her mother had, tilting her chin the exact same way. Her dad had said "Evans." Cass recalled Harry telling her that had been their mother's maiden name. Evans. Cass liked the sound of that, thought that if she were to say it right now, it would roll off her tongue like water. Or maybe she just liked it because it had belonged to her mum.

Her mum.

After finding out Harry was her…twin, it had taken Cass a while to register that she had found her biological parents.

And they weren't even alive anymore.

She couldn't touch them, hold them, talk to them…it heartbreaking. Heart-wrenching, especially when she Saw them and how wonderful they are.

Cass didn't know whether to consider herself lucky for being able to See her parents or unlucky to be able to See them. On one hand, she was gifted with a chance to See for herself what they were like. _I'm sure that's more than Harry ever got,_ she thought sadly. But on the other hand, she got to know what she was missing out on, and that made everything so much more miserable.

Cass shook her head. _No, I _am_ lucky to be able to See them,_ she told herself firmly, slightly angry at herself for thinking otherwise.

Her thoughts moved to the events of that day. Cass was slightly miffed by Harry's stubborn refusal to consider himself anything but bad. It was really quite ridiculous of him. Even before she had found out the truth, Cass had always thought Harry was a good person. She wholeheartedly rejected the notion that Voldemort, malicious little devil that he was, could stand possessing someone as kindhearted as Harry.

But Cass couldn't deny she had felt something in Harry…something very dark. She would never, ever, ever say this to Harry, but it scared her just a tiny bit. It made Cass feel indescribably guilty to be thinking things like that about her brother, but, however much it pained her to admit it, even in her thoughts, there _was_ something connecting Harry to Voldemort. It ran deeper than the prophecy Dumbledore had shared with them. It ran deeper than Voldemort's strange obsession with her brother (Harry really did have the rottenest luck when it came to magical villains). It felt…wrong. And unidentifiable, which frustrated Cass to no end. She was a Seer, wasn't she? She should be able to help her brother out with this, and she couldn't. She couldn't figure out what this—this _thing_ linking Harry to Voldemort was. She theorized that it had something to do with Harry's strange dream about Mr. Weasley, the one so unlike her visions, but she didn't know for sure.

The thought didn't sit well with Cass, this not knowing, and she flipped over to her other side.

For a few more moments, Cass's mind went on wondering about the _thing_ (there was no other word to describe it). She had a sneaking suspicion Dumbledore knew_ exactly _what was going on, and it in no part came from her clairvoyance. It was just like the old codger to withhold even _more_ information rightfully belonging to Harry.

Eventually, though, Cass's thoughts grew more and more hazy until they obtained a dreamlike undercurrent to them, and then she fell back asleep. As her mind yielded to fantastical wonders that one normally has during slumber, Cass hoped that she could receive another vision about her parents.

She really was quite lucky.

OoOoO

"Cass, I'll take you over to Kings Cross Station to meet your grandparents tomorrow. It'll be the day term officially ends, so they'll be waiting for you there anyway," Mrs. Weasley announced at the breakfast table.

"Wonderful, I'll come with you, Molly," Sirius said assertively, apparently quite determined.

"Sirius, I don't think that'll be such a good idea—"

"Molly, you cannot expect me to not want to meet the people that raised Cass—"

"I don't, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley cut in, giving Sirius a hard look. Cass, though, thought it sounded very much as though she did.

"Molly, I'll go as Padfoot. I'm sure Dumbledore won't mind—"

"Well, _I'm_ sure he will. Besides, you barely behaved yourself last time, hardly acted like a dog at all—"

"I'm going, that's final," Sirius interrupted, a firm edge in his voice. Mrs. Weasley made an affronted sound deep in her throat.

Cass, along with the rest of the people sitting at the table, watched Mrs. Weasley's and Sirius's exchange as one might watch a tennis match. Cass felt very touched that Sirius wanted to meet her grandparents, and it was for that reason that she said, "Mrs. Weasley, I think Sirius should come. I want him to see my grandparents as soon as possible, even if it is from the perspective of a dog."

"Cass dear, that's very sweet of you, but I just don't think it's a good idea. Sirius could get caught." Mrs. Weasley directed that last bit to Sirius quite crossly, but he apparently didn't catch it. Rather, he was grinning at Cass, looking incredibly happy that she had stood up for him.

"Oh, Mum, just let Sirius go. He, of all people, deserves to see Cass's grandparents if he wants to," Ron told his mother around a mouthful of bacon.

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at her son. "You're not helping, Ronald. And don't talk with your mouth full of food, it's rude!" she admonished sternly.

"Mrs. Weasley, could Sirius please go?" Cass asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes in what she hoped to be an innocent, lovable manner.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to battle with herself for a moment before finally giving in. "Oh, all right. Sirius, you had _better _act like a dog!"

Fred and George opened their mouths at Cass, shocked to see that she had managed to persuade Mrs. Weasley to let Sirius go. Then, without exchanging any words with each other, or even glances, they started to slowly clap their hands together in admiration. Cass shook her head at their childish antics and grinned at Sirius, who gave her the thumbs up.

"You're diabolical, you know that?" Harry told her, smiling.

Cass shrugged, digging into her eggs.

OoOoO

That afternoon, someone stopped by Grimmauld Place that Cass had never seen before, but he seemed to recognize her the moment he laid his tired-looking eyes on her.

"Cassandra?" the man asked as he walked into the dusty family room. He looked very ill and exhausted to her, and, though obviously quite young, and several streaks of grey in his otherwise brown hair.

Cass, Harry, and the Weasley children were busy decorating the grimy room for Christmas. Cass herself had been in the process of hanging mistletoe on a hook attached to the putrid ceiling when the man entered.

"Yes?" Cass answered, assuming this person had known her parents and that was why he had recognized her so easily. She ran a list of who had known her parents in her head and guessed that this was Remus Lupin, one of the Marauders Harry had told her about.

Her prediction was proven correct when the man introduced himself. "I'm Remus Lupin—you can call be Remus. I was a friend of your parents."

Cass smiled and hopped down from the step ladder she had been using to reach the ceiling. She crossed the room over to Remus and stuck out her hand.

"Cass McGarther," she introduced herself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cass," he said warmly, taking her hand. _Here it comes…_Cass thought. A second later, Remus said, "I'm sure you must get this a lot, but you look remarkably like your mother, except for your hair. You and Harry share James's hair…though yours isn't messy."

"Lucky her," Harry remarked dryly, making a show of patting down a strand of hair that stuck straight up.

"Harry, it's nice to see you," Remus said, chuckling at Harry's sarcastic comment.

"Hey, Professor," Harry greeted, smiling at Remus.

"Moony!" came a shout from the banister, and Sirius came down the stairs, elf hat bobbing on each step. Cass would have laughed at the Christmas attire had she not been so startled by Sirius sudden exclamation. _Some Seer you are,_ she thought to herself.

Sirius and Remus greeted each other at the foot of the stairs. Cass's vision flickered and her eyes pricked.

_A boy with brown hair and tired eyes sat in a compartment all alone, reading a paperback novel. _

_Suddenly, two boys entered the train car, both with dark hair, and made themselves comfortable beside the boy. _

_The boy with blue eyes said, "I'm Sirius." _

_The brown-haired boy said, "About what?" _

_Sirius sighed overdramatically. "Not serious, Sirius." _

_The hazel-eyed boy rolled his eyes. "That clears things up perfectly," he deadpanned. "I'm James," he added. _

"_Remus," the brown-haired boy said, looking flustered. _

Cass snapped back to the present, a small smile on her face. Harry gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head.

Remus returned his gaze to Cass, a bittersweet expression on his face.

"You really do look like them," he told her. "Merlin, I just can't believe . . ."

"I know," said Harry. "Tell me about it."

Cass nodded her head in agreement, overwhelmed for a second by her own disbelief. Sometimes it all felt like a dream.

There was an awkward silence in the room that made Cass squirm uncomfortably.

"So . . ." she said. How does one start a conversation, again? For the life of her, Cass could not think of anything to say, much to her frustration.

"Merlin, this is awful," muttered Fred.

"Think we should help out?" said George from the corner of his mouth.

"They could really use it, couldn't they?"

Not wanting the twins' "help", Cass quickly said, "Maybe we could play a board game. Sirius, do you have any board games?" _Better than nothing, _she thought.

Sirius snapped his fingers together, latching on to her idea. "Yes, that's a wonderful idea. I'll go look for some." He dashed up the stairs, his little elf hat jingling merrily, which contrasted with the awkward atmosphere of the room.

Harry gave Cass a thumbs-up for her suggestion, smiling.

Cass smiled back, but it wavered for a second as she felt something cold emanating from Harry. She thought back to the _thing_ she felt in him and her smile disappeared.

"Cass, you okay?" asked Harry, concern in his eyes.

Cass shook herself and forced a smile.

"Of course, I know who is going to win."

"Us?" asked the twins in unison.

"No," said Cass. "Me."

"No fair, you Saw that," complained Ron.

She hadn't, but nonetheless Cass smiled sweetly and said, "Maybe."

"How does that work, exactly?" asked Remus, looking genuinely interested.

Cass thought about his question and tried to articulate the feeling she got when she had a vision. "It's almost like this pricking in my eyes, as if I'm about to cry, but instead of tears I get a vision." She frowned at her inadequacy to explain it properly. "Only that's not exactly it. It's a bit difficult to explain."

Remus looked thoughtful. "I think I get it."

Cass was impressed he got anything from her less than perfect description. "It chooses for itself when to work, too."

"You can't control it?"

Cass shook her head. "Not most of the time. It's really quite frustrating, actually."

"Frustrating? How can you See the future and not think it's the wickedest thing ever?" Harry asked with a bewildered shake of his head.

"Seeing the future _is _great. Seeing what random people will have for breakfast? Not so much."

"What will I have for breakfast tomorrow?" demanded Ron immediately, an eager look on his face.

"I shouldn't have said anything. Honestly, out of everything you could have asked about," said Cass in exasperation. "Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich," she tacked on, unable to stop herself. A second later, she berated herself. _Now he's going to bug you about that every night. _

"Wicked," said Ron. "I love breakfast sandwiches."

"You love breakfast, period," said Ginny with an eyeroll.

"You just love food in general," added Cass, sharing a snicker with Ginny.

"What's not to like?" said Ron defensively. "A boy's gotta eat, doesn't he?"

"Every minute of the day?" asked Harry pointedly, a smirk on his lips. Cass snorted.

"What on earth are you lot talking about?" asked Sirius as he entered the room again, a tottering pile of worn boardgames in his arms.

"Cass Saw what Ron was going to have for breakfast tomorrow," informed Ginny as she and Cass cleared off the coffee table of Christmas decorations. Sirius set the games on it with a firm _clonk. _Cass observed that the games were made from wood, not cardboard, and they looked ancient.

"Reckon you can tell me when Dumbledore will let me out of this dump?" muttered Sirius sarcastically.

Knowing the question had been rhetorical, Cass didn't answer, instead asking a question of her own. "Are those antique?"

"They are. I found them in the darkest corner of the attic," replied Sirius, wrinkling his nose distastefully. "It took a good three scourging spells to dust them off."

"Hey, is that Snakes and Ladders?" asked Remus, pointing. He had a reminiscent smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It is, isn't it? Merlin, remember when we used to play that in our school days?"

Sirius grinned. "I thought you'd recognize it."

Cass's eyes smarted and she got a brief flicker of an image. _Four boys sat around a game, their laughing faces containing a mischievous glint. _She blinked and the image was gone, lost once again to the past.

Harry snapped his fingers in her face, eyebrows raised. Cass realized everyone else had already taken their seats. Slightly put-out with herself, she said, "Sorry. It looked like you guys had fun playing that game."

Remus goggled, sharing a questioning look with Sirius and then Harry, who shrugged and said, "You get used to it."

Cass frowned at her brother. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It isn't," said Harry quickly. "It just takes some getting used to."

"Like finding out you have a twin sister four years younger than you?" said Cass sweetly.

"That took a _whole _lot more getting used to," said Harry. "And I still haven't quite registered it."

"Ditto," muttered Cass. Sirius grunted his agreement as well.

"You guys talk too much," said Fred grumpily.

"Yeah, let's just start playing already," added George.

Cass reckoned they just wanted to prove her vision of winning wrong—a vision she hadn't even had—but nevertheless she sat down next to Remus.

Cass, to her delight, won every single game the group played. She admitted to herself that she hadn't won fairly, seeing as how she predicted everyone's move before they made it, but it was still good fun. For her. She suspected everyone else was growing annoyed with her, so, concentrating, she tried building a barrier in her mind to stop the visions. When that didn't work, she simply didn't act on them, purposefully choosing the move that would result in her losing.

"Now you're letting us win," complained George.

"Where's the challenge in that?" said Fred, knocking over Cass's game piece and eliminating her from the game.

"I'm sure you two can find enough challenges without my help," said Cass, sniffing her nose indignantly. What was she? A mere source of entertainment? _Hmph. _

"Like so," said Ginny, elegantly knocking Fred's piece clean off the board. George, without skipping a beat, used his turn to flick Ginny's piece onto the carpet with the tip of his wand.

Rolling her eyes, Cass reach down to pluck it off the carpet. _Honestly, was that necessary?_ She stopped her hand, something warning her not to touch the small wooden game piece. Her retinas pricked. Still leaning down, Cass smiled smugly and used the sleeve of her shirt to flick the piece towards Fred's bare ankle.

It hit the boy's skin in a burst of colorful sparks, just like Cass knew it would. Fred yelped and sprang into the air, sending the table flipping onto the ground. Cursing with about as much color as those sparks, he hobbled on one foot, while everyone except Cass stared with open mouths.

_That's what you get for trying to prank me, _Cass thought with a small, triumphant smile. She didn't want to admit that it had been a close call. George spelling the game piece at the last minute was a smart move on their part.

After a couple seconds, the fireworks died down. Cass cracked up, hugging her waist in a futile effort to control her laughter. "I can't—believe—you thought—that would work," she wheezed. She mimed wiping a tear from her eye.

Understanding dawned in the room.

"That had been meant for Cass?" demanded Sirius, his face mingled praise and disapproval.

"George!" said Fred, ignoring Sirius. "You said that would work!"

George had a shocked look on his face. "I thought it would!"

"It didn't," said Cass sassily, still snickering.

Fred crossed his arms at her and regarded his brother thoughtfully.

"This is going to take more planning than we thought," he said. With a nod to George, they both Disapparated, filling the room with a cracking noise.

"What just happened?" asked Ron, puzzled and confused.

"The twins failed to prank Cass," answered Ginny. "And she sent their little joke right back at them."

Cass smiled proudly. "They've tried and failed a dozen times over already. For the love of treacle tarts, you'd think all those failures would give them some common sense." She pursed her lips, thinking it was really quite time the twins got over this stupid little prank onslaught they've struck up with her.

"Wouldn't've stopped us," said Sirius, shrugging. Cass could tell he was referring to the Marauders. "We would've loved the challenge just as much as those two."

"_I _wouldn't have," protested Remus.

"Sure you would've, Moony," said Sirius lightly. "The logic puzzle would have delighted you for weeks."

"Maybe," Remus conceded, flicking his wand to straighten the table.

Cass smiled at their exchange, a happy feeling blossoming in her chest. If Sirius and Remus could work out all their problems after Remus had believed Sirius was the reason her parents were dead, she was sure she and Harry could work out all the awkward tension. What was a little brother-sister bonding compared to all that Remus and Sirius had gone through? Now, if only Cass could make herself believe that. Her mind stubbornly refused her.

OoOoO

Dinner that night was—there was only a single word to describe it— madness. Cass, Harry, and Ginny banged their fists on the table, cheering on Ron, who had three turkey legs in his mouth, and was going for a fourth one with an expression of determination. The Weasley twins were having a food fight—Ginny's hair had "accidentally" been victim to a whole scoop of mashed potatoes—and Padfoot was running around the table, tail wagging happily at the pandemonium, chomping up bits of food on the floor. The house-elf Kreacher, who made Cass want to give up S.P.E.W. entirely, screeched insults at the entire group, spitting on their "filthy blood" and "vile betrayal" and basically everything else about them. Cass could almost admire his creativity, if not for the cruel remarks putting a sour taste in her mouth.

Mrs. Weasley was futilely trying to establish order, wagging her finger this way and that, and sometimes joining Kreacher in insulting everybody. Remus was over by the stove, putting out a fire that had started in the pan after Mrs. Weasley had left it unattended. Somewhere, a deep voice sang opera music in Italian, and for some reason, it seemed to fit the chaotic kitchen.

Cass leaned in closer to her brother, ignoring the way that word sent its familiar tendrils of disbelief into her chest. "Ron's not going to be able to take his fifth leg," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"You Saw that?" asked Harry, not taking his eyes off Ron, who was currently trying to work another turkey leg into his mouth. A awry carrot hit Harry on the nose.

"No," said Cass, entranced and disgusted as Ron managed a fourth leg in his mouth. "Just common sense."

"_Ronald!" _shrieked Mrs. Weasley. _"You're going to choke!" _

_No, he won't, _thought Cass, though she wisely kept that to herself, fearing Mrs. Weasley would take it as cheeky disrespect.

"Duck, Harry," Cass warned suddenly. He did, and the buttered roll soared over his head and clonked Mrs. Weasley on the head.

"GEORGE!"

There was a crack to Cass's left, telling her Fred and George had Disapparated. She thought that was pretty smart of them, if Mrs. Weasley's look of rage was anything to go by.

"YOU STOP THIS MADNESS THIS INSTANT!" yelled Mrs. Weasley. Cass spared a look around, saw that no one else was listening to Mrs. Weasley, and then returned her attention to Ron. The boy was now looking nauseatingly at a fifth turkey leg.

"SIRIUS—YOU STOP RUNNING AROUND LIKE A MAD MAN—REMUS, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED—BOYS, I KNOW YOU'RE UPSTAIRS, YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE WHEN YOU SHOW YOUR FACES AGAIN—YOU THREE, STOP CHEERING RON ON—OH, FOR GOODNESS' SAKE, RON, GET THOSE TURKEY LEGS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!"

Cass, Harry, Ginny, and Ron exchanged scared looks. Sirius barked challengingly, obviously enjoying the hectic but friendly atmosphere in the room. Mrs. Weasley's face turned livid, and without exchanging words, the four kids scrambled out of the room. Poor Ron (though it was completely his fault) had to go through the painful process of getting all those legs out of his mouth in less than five seconds to avoid his mother. Laughing, the four dashed out the kitchen, Padfoot hot at their tails, and Mrs. Weasley not far behind, shouting admonitions at them. Harry and Cass practically ran into Bill and Tonks, who had been at the hospital with Mr. Weasley, as the two Order members were entering the basement kitchen.

"Mum—right behind us—she'll kill us!" wheezed Ginny, her face flushed with exhilaration.

"Go, skedaddle!" said Tonks, making room for the four kids. Cass flashed her a grin as they all clambered up the steps, intent on hiding this out until Mrs. Weasley calmed down. Sirius changed back into a man, his usually sad eyes alight with amusement.

"You lot are so much fun," he told them. "Go, before Molly catches you!" Cass smiled, thrilled Sirius wasn't an uptight grump, and dashed up the stairs with her brother and their friends. She was laughing so hard it hurt—when was the last time she had felt this happy? They were all acting like young, immature children, and she loved every second of it. Hurriedly, the four of them pressed themselves into a closet. Cass thought she felt something crawl over her foot. She told herself firmly not to be squeamish and huddled against Harry and Ginny. The dark closet smelled of mildew and rot.

"How long do you reckon it'll take for her to calm down?" asked Harry, who was squished up against a wall beside Cass, who was equally cramped.

"I heard her go on for hours once," whispered Ron. "My mouth hurts," he added, his voice regretful.

"I don't doubt it," Cass whispered back. Her heartbeat calmed down.

"Shh!" warned Ginny, her voice barely containing a laugh. "I hear something."

Cass's eyes smarted.

_A plump, red-haired woman opened the door, hands on her fists, fury on her face. _

_Four adolescents grimaced in their hiding spot, but they couldn't dampen the wide grins on their faces. _

"Uh-oh," said Cass.

A second later, Mrs. Weasley opened the door, her posture the exact same from Cass's vision.

A good hour later, Cass's ears were still ringing from the scolding the four of them had gotten. But even Mrs. Weasley couldn't miss their joy for long, and sighing wearily, she had sent them to bed, like naughty little children. Though Cass's pride had unquestionably been damaged, she was completely happy with the chaotic dinner. It had felt so . . . right. She and Ginny had been sharing laughs on and off for the past thirty minutes, and she knew this would be a memory she kept in her heart for a long time. She supposed her and Harry were catching up on all the mischief they had missed out on, and that thought was the last thing in her mind before she fell asleep.

OoOoO


	24. Home Again

**DISCLAIMER: You all know the drill. Harry Potter isn't mine. The world isn't mine. The plot—hey! That's mine! Yay! **

**A/N: Helloooooo! We're almost at 200 followers! Thank you all so much! Sorry for the long update periods. I'm extremely busy, not that that's an excuse. Trust me, I'm just as upset about it as you all are. I really wanted to complete NaNoWriMo this year. Ah, well. There's always next year. **

**Review (if you want) and enjoy! **

**Also, and I'm going to reiterate this, we're almost at 200 followers! :)**

OoOoO

Cass peered at the crowd, her sharp green eyes scanning every face for her grandparents. Beside her a shaggy black dog sat, its tail wagging with excited anticipation. Muggles streamed in front of them, unaware that a magical platform existed right off to the left of Cass. Mrs. Weasley and Tonks stood behind her, with the paranoid Mad-Eye invisible next to them, and finally Harry, who stood on her other side. Anxiously, he rubbed his hands against his thighs, clearly nervous about meeting Cass's grandparents. Or maybe he was excited. It frustrated Cass that she couldn't tell.

"Harry, calm down. You'll rub a hole through your pants," said Cass, tearing her gaze away from the crowd to look at her brother, a smile tugging at her lips. Her brother—how were her grandparents react to that? Cass felt lucky they had a few days until Christmas so they could digest the startling information nice and properly. Then again, it might take more than a few days to fully sink in. Cass still wasn't completely sure it had sunken in for her.

"I won't," said Harry, but nonetheless he quit fidgeting. Almost. "It's just a bit nerve-wracking to meet you long-lost sister's grandparents." He lowered his voice so only Sirius and Cass could hear.

"Please," said Cass. "I have to come to terms with the fact that my"—she decreased her volume to a whisper—"brother is Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he has a nutter after his head."

Sirius barked a laugh at her words. Smiling, Cass scratched him behind his ears.

"You beat me," said Harry, his lips quirking. "Wait—is that them?"

"No, I have no idea who they are."

"Oh."

Cass felt her heartstrings plucked by the disappointed note in Harry's voice. In a way she couldn't put into words, knowing her—her brother looked forward to meeting her grandparents filled her with joy.

"Cass dear, maybe we should go into the magical platform?" suggested Mrs. Weasley. "They might be—"

Cass's eyes pricked, and two seconds later she exclaimed, "They're here! By Platform 7!"

Whipping her head around to see what her vision had already shown her, Cass spotted her grandparents emerge from the parking lot onto the seventh platform. Heedless of Moody hissing, "Girl, don't rush off into unfamiliar territory!" (honestly, didn't he know she could See the future and therefore almost nothing was unfamiliar to her), Cass sprinted towards her grandparents at top speed, a brilliant smile on her face. Weaving nimbly through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of protest, she skidded to a halt in front of her grandparents so as to not bowl them over.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Cass exclaimed, embracing her grandparents. Surprised at her sudden appearance, they took a moment to hug back before sighing with contentment and wrapping their arms around her.

"Cass! Heavens, you're supposed to still be on the train!" said her grandmother. "And where is your luggage? Sweetie?"

Cass felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she was crying. Like a baby, she was crying. _Stop that, _she commanded her tears to no avail. What was wrong with her? Had someone cast a spell? Why was she crying like a little kid?

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" said Grandpa Jimmy, using a wrinkled finger to lift Cass's chin. "Oh, no. Joyce, I think she's failed Charmsfiguration, or that Alchemy class . . ."

Cass had to laugh at that.

"I'm sorry, it's just . . . a lot has happened," she explained. "And I missed you guys. A lot." _And I can't even fully process what's happened, _she added silently. Breathing in deeply and cursing her stupid tears, Cass collected herself.

"How much can happen in four months?" wondered Grandma Joyce, kissing Cass on the cheeks. Cass smiled at her, taking in her aged face. It hadn't changed much, that sweet face, and right now it could have been the face of an angel.

A thoughtful moment of silence, and then, "I suppose a lot can." Cass's grandfather's voice held complete seriousness, and without a word or obvious hint, Cass knew he was referring to his . . . sickness. _I haven't thought about that in a long time,_ thought Cass to herself. What kind of granddaughter was she? Her grandpa didn't deserve that kind of forgetfulness, and Cass felt guilty she hadn't spent more time at the library looking for a cure. In between browsing through genealogies, she had researched a magical cure for mundane sickness. Finding out Harry Potter was her bloody twin was no excuse; she would have to work extra hard next semester to help her grandpa.

Her reverie was broken by her grandmother's low, slightly fearful voice. "Cass, do you know those people?"

Harry, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Sirius were waiting a little ways off, looking out of place not only by their wizardliness but more dominantly by their obvious awkwardness.

"Grandma, Grandpa, something has happened," edged Cass, uncomfortably aware that they were in the middle of a crowded train station. It seemed a terrible place to tell the people who raised her that she had a twin brother four years her senior.

"Is it bad?" asked her grandma, apparently concluding that if Cass wasn't scared of the odd group, she shouldn't be either. Still, her grandmother looked wary.

"No," answered Cass with complete certainty. Then, turning to Harry, she gestured exasperatedly to him to come. Honestly, her grandparents weren't that scary (well, Grandma Joyce could be quite terrifying sometimes, but that was only when Cass did something she shouldn't have, which was only once or twice a week. Or three times).

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. McGarther," greeted Harry politely. Padfoot was giving Cass's grandparents a humanlike expression of gratitude and appraise.

"Young man, who are you?" demanded Grandpa McGarther, peering at Harry.

"That's where the complicated part begins," muttered Cass. In a louder voice, she said, "I found out who my biological parents are—_were_." Cass tried not to cringe at her mistake, but she couldn't help the flash of sadness that flitted across her features.

"Were?" repeated Grandma Joyce. "Oh, honey . . . I'm so sorry." She smoothed Cass's curls back from her face.

"Us too," said Harry, his right hand placed on Padfoot's head, as though he could draw comfort from Padfoot's fur alone.

"_Us?" _spluttered Grandpa Jimmy, his eyes comically going wide.

Cass zeroed in a few seconds in the future, shoving away her surprise at her own power, and determined there was no one around to overhear them. At least, she didn't think there was. To be safe, she kept her voice as low as possible yet still audible for her grandparents, both who didn't have the best hearing.

"I can't explain it all now, but Harry is my brother." _Twin, _she corrected herself mentally, but she dared not say that aloud. Her having a brother would come as shock enough.

Cass's grandparents' reactions were much the same as everyone else's. Filled with astonishment, their eyes darted back and forth between Harry and Cass; she could practically see the comparisons being made in their heads. Tonks and Mrs. Weasley kindly kept _their_ eyes on the crowd, pretending to ignore the shock of her grandparents. Cass couldn't see Moody, but she reckoned he was probably glaring at her for talking about the secret in a public place.

After silence had stretched for an uncomfortably long time, the oblivious Muggles gushing by on the platform, Grandpa Jimmy cracked a chuckle. "Four months in the wizarding world and you come back with a brother. I have to say, I wasn't expecting that. Maybe a witch's broom, or a toad for a pet, but not this."

"Good Lord!" admonished Cass's grandma to her grandpa. "Cass comes back with a brother and that's your reaction? Harry, is it? Come here, let me take a look at you."

Pressing her lips together to keep from smiling, Cass watched as her grandmother peered appraisingly at Harry. The sight gave her an extreme sense of unreality. Her two worlds, kept separated in her head until now, were blending together, seen through her unblinking eyes. Her unbelieving eyes. Eyes that saw so much yet could not comprehend her twin brother that was four years older than her talking to her grandparents that weren't even her grandparents. Life was strange.

Blinking, Cass dispelled those feelings and looked back at her grandpa.

"Your grandmother sure has a way of pointing out all the flaws in a person," he said, restrained laughter in his voice.

The two of them paused and listened as Grandma Joyce said, "Well, I certainly know who got all the good genes."

_Poor Harry, _thought Cass without much sympathy. Grandma Joyce was like that—sweet as chocolate when she wanted to be but could crack down on you like there was no tomorrow as well. In a way, Cass could be like that, too. It was one of her best qualities.

Taking pity on Harry, Cass walked over to her grandma and said loudly, "Grandma, don't be mean. Harry, she didn't mean that."

Cass's grandma harrumphed and gave Cass a stern look. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady. I'm just getting to know your brother. In fact, how would you and your . . . company like to come over for tea, Harry?" Then, with a motherly smile, she added, "And Cass is right, I didn't mean what I said. Don't take me seriously—old mind and all that."

"No, no, no, it's alright," said Harry quickly. Cass patted his shoulder twice, sniggering quietly. "Mrs. Weasley, can we go over for tea?"

Bustling over to them, Mrs. Weasley introduced herself eagerly. "Hello, please call me Molly. It's wonderful to meet both of you." Sirius barked in agreement, causing Mrs. Weasley to shoot a stern look at him.

"Jimmy McGarther," replied Grandpa, shaking Mrs. Weasley's hand.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Molly. I'm Joyce," said Grandma. "May I ask, how do you know Cass and Harry?"

"Oh, Harry is friends with my children. I've known him for—what is it now, Harry dear, five years? Yes, that's right. Goodness, how the time flies. I'm here to drop Cass off, but I would love to join you for tea."

"Drop Cass off?" repeated Grandpa Jimmy. "Didn't she take the express?"

"It's a long story," said Harry.

"I'll tell you when we get home," promised Cass.

"It seems you have lots to explain, Cass," said Grandma, looking down her nose at Cass.

Cass frowned. "It's pathetic how much of an understatement that is."

"What can be bigger than finding out you have a brother?" wondered Grandpa.

Cass opened her mouth then closed it. Harry ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it into a fine mess. Tonks cleared her throat. An unintelligible snappish remark came from somewhere to Cass's right; Moody obviously disapproved of them talking about this out in public. Cass herself was starting to think it was a bad idea.

"I see," said her grandma slowly, her eyes alight with curiosity. "We can discuss this over tea, then."

OoOoO

Years from then, Harry could still remember with much clarity the expressions on his sister's grandparents' faces. Mouths parted in small 'o's, eyes filled with shock, faces lined with disbelief, Joyce and Jimmy McGarther were beyond flabbergasted. Their minds had been blown. Harry worried that one of them might have a heart attack.

"These cakes are delicious," offered Harry awkwardly. Cass gave him a look that said, 'Seriously?' He shrugged and gestured for her to do better.

Frowning at him, Cass tried a different approach to snap her grandparents out of their stupor. "Grandma, Grandpa? I know the story's mental, but—"

Mrs. McGarther held up her hand. "Cass, leave it at that. The story's mental."

Harry watched Cass open her mouth but no words came out. She looked . . . lost, as though she regretted words couldn't come to her. Cursing Dumbledore silently, he gave her a small smile and hoped it was comforting to her.

Tonks and Moody had gone back Grimmauld Place, taking a reluctant Padfoot with them. Harry had been there to fill in all the gaps Cass left out. Mrs. Weasley had more or less stayed quiet, letting the Potter twins tell the story themselves. _The Potter twins. _What an odd and foreign thought. Harry rolled it around in his mind, blinking away that familiar disbelief, and returned his attention to Cass's grandparents.

"You two . . . you two are twins?" confirmed Mr. McGarther, disbelief clear in his tone. "Are you pulling our legs?"

Cass shook her head, apparently unable to find words.

"We are, sir," said Harry, giving Cass a sympathetic look. "I promise, we are." He wished he had better words to say. He wished Dumbledore hadn't kept it from them. He wished his—their—parents were still alive. Wishing gave him a fat load of nothing, though, didn't it?

"I can't believe this," whispered Mrs. McGarther. Cass made a small noise of sadness. "Cass, tell me this is a prank. Those prophecies you mentioned . . . that evil man . . . how did you get wrapped up in this, child?"

Cass shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I—I don't know." In a stronger voice, almost bordering on defiant, she added, "But even with all that stuff, I'm glad I know."

"I'm glad you know, too, kiddo," said Mr. McGarther. "I'll have to exchange words with this Bumbledore fellow . . . keeping something like that . . ."

"Dumbledore," Cass corrected absently.

"Pardon?"

"Never mind."

"Young man," said Mrs. McGarther suddenly. "You look after our Cass, hear me? I don't want her getting mixed up in all your trouble."

Harry lost his voice for a moment. The elderly woman had struck a nerve. He constantly worried that being related to him would get Cass hurt . . . or . . . he couldn't even finish the thought. What if Voldemort found out? What would he do to her?

"Grandma!" exclaimed Cass. "None of that is Harry's fault!" She definitely had defiance in her eyes now, and quite a bit of annoyance. "You can't blame him for that."

"Cass, your grandmother didn't mean it like that," interceded Mr. McGarther hurriedly. "She's just worried. We both are. That's a lot of worry you've just given us, and we can't bear the thought of you—or Harry—getting hurt."

Harry started, surprised Mr. McGarther had included him. He felt his heart lighten at the old man's words.

"I know, I know," said Cass, her voice calmer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you . . . I'm really sorry." She looked ashamed and upset with herself.

"It's alright," said Mrs. McGarther, moving to sit next to Cass. The two embraced each other, seeming to draw solace from one another. Harry looked at the scene with relief; Cass had at least had a better childhood than him, and that thought made him glad.

"Say, junior, how about you come over for Christmas?" offered Mr. McGarther kindly. "Joyce, we can have Harry over, right?"

"Of course . . ."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "I was just going to invite you over for Christmas dinner. We have more than enough room, and you can meet Harry's godfather, Sirius."

"Technically, you already met him," said Cass. "He was the dog at the platform."

Mr. McGarther blinked three times, sighed, and said, "I thought that dog behaved rather oddly. You wizards are something else."

Cass, seeming over her discomfort, smiled brightly. "Sure are!"

OoOoO

Cass hopped out the Weasley's Ford Anglia excitedly, a sack of gifts in her arms. It was Christmas Day—twilight, to be precise—and she and her grandparents had just arrived at Grimmauld Place. That morning, she had celebrated the holiday with Grandma and Grandpa. From them, she had gotten a new hairclip, a sketchbook, and a stack of Muggle paperbacks to read at Hogwarts. She wore the hairclip now, as well as the green fuzzy sweater she had received from the Weasley family. The owl had arrived just as the McGarthers were eating breakfast, and if not for Cass's Sight, it might have scared the daylights out of them. She had gotten a paint brush that didn't need paint from Harry and Sirius. Secretly, she was glad Sirius hadn't gotten her a Firebolt. Though wicked, it seemed they didn't know each other enough for a present that expensive. And wasn't that sad?

But Cass didn't feel sad at all. In fact, she couldn't have been happier. She was about to spend Christmas night with her grandparents, her newly found brother, her godfather that might not technically be her godfather, and her friends. Last night, her Sight had given her visions of the dinner, just little flashes really, and she couldn't wait.

"This is the place?" asked Grandpa, skepticism written all over his face.

"It's magic, Grandpa," replied Cass. "You'll see."

"Magic houses?" whispered her grandpa to himself. "Okay, kiddo."

Skipping joyfully down the sidewalk, Cass skidded to a halt right outside Grimmauld Place's porch. She could see through the Fidelius Charm, of course, but her grandparents hadn't been told of the place by Dumbledore yet.

Mrs. Weasley, who had driven them over, took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Cass's grandparents to read.

"Here, read this. It will let you see the house."

Clearly confused, Cass's grandparents looked over the paper before looking back up at the house. Their eyes went wide. Smiling, Cass took both of their hands. They felt cold, out in this wintery weather.

"I never get used to it, either," she told them. "Magic."

"Try doing it when you're in your seventies," said Grandpa Jimmy.

With that, the four of them walked into Grimmauld Place.

That night, amidst laughter and cheer, Cass's two worlds cemented themselves together. Her grandmother and Mrs. Weasley became fast friends, sharing the act of scolding everyone at the table for "atrocious manners" (which Cass wasn't sure was true—only Fred and George behaved awfully). Grandpa Jimmy and Sirius, though a larger age gap separated the two, got along well too. They were much the same—all fun and jokes and perpetual childishness (that is, until, Grandma Joyce got onto Grandpa Jimmy for cracking an innuendo—which was _hilarious,_ by the way). Cass and Harry talked with Remus throughout the entire night, their conversation ranging from pranks the Marauders had pulled to less-happy topics, like Dolores Umbridge's new position as Head Inquisitor (there had been quite a bit of ranting on all their parts when that came up—Remus especially, being a werewolf and all, had reason to hate Umbridge). In between the first and second course, Ginny had told Cass Mr. Weasley was getting better—so well, in fact, that he might make it home before the end of the break. After dinner, Cass handed out her presents—cards, that's all she could afford—to everyone. She had designed them around the receiver's immediate future, which she thought had been pretty thoughtful at the time, but compared to the gifts she had gotten, it seemed measly. Oh, well. She could've done worse. Fred and George handed out sweets that turned everyone's faces blue—or would have if Cass hadn't warned everyone (what did the dolts think would happen?).

Besides that minor incident, where Mrs. Weasley dragged the two Weasley twins by their ears to screech at them in the kitchen, the night was amazing, filled with splendor and magic and family.

With the fairies twinkling in the Christmas tree, her grandparents getting along with the wizards, and her heart lifted by cheer, Cass could almost believe Voldemort wasn't out there, that he wasn't after her brother's head, and that the horrors of the world were simply nightmares.

Almost.

OoOoO

The Knight Bus slammed to a stop with a _BANG! _Cass, her fingers gripping a bronze pole, swung forward, barely managing to hold on. The others weren't so lucky.

"Next time," George wheezed from the ground, "can we just take the train?"

Moody, his scarred face impassive, didn't deign to reply.

Tonks did, however. "Sorry, the station's too full of people. This way's better."

"Yeah," huffed Fred. "Better."

Toting their luggage behind them, Cass, Harry, and the Weasley children hopped off the bus and onto Hogsmeade Station, their Winter Break over and their brains ready for more of Hogwarts curriculum. In the distance, they could see the Hogwarts Express traveling towards them, clouds of smoke pumping out from the top.

"Perfect timing," commented Ron, looking appreciative.

"I hope Hermione wasn't too worried about us," said Ginny, rubbing her gloved hands together for warmth.

"Dumbledore would've explained to her," said Tonks.

Cass lifted her eyebrows. "Would he have?" she muttered bitterly under her breath. Tonks grimaced awkwardly in response.

With another ear-shredding _BANG _the Knight Bus shot off, its conductor Stan waving goodbye. Tonks, Moody, and Remus would just Apparate back home.

"Well, we should go before the rest of the students arrive," said Tonks. "Remus?"

The werewolf had been looking at Hogwarts nostalgically. "Yeah . . . we should."

Tonks and Remus gave everyone hugs, with Moody nodding to the children curtly, and then, just the train rounded the corner, they were off. Poof. Cass couldn't wait until she could Apparate.

They all waited in silence as the train squealed to a stop. Cass scanned the crowd of students that got off, looking for her friends. Spotting Brooke, she waved and wove through the students, leaving her trunk with Harry to watch over.

"Cass!" exclaimed Brooke, throwing her arms around her. "Where in the bloody hell have you been?"

"I—I'll explain later!" said Cass, hugging her friend back. "Where's everyone else?"

"The Hufflepuffs were helping their Housemate find his toad, and I think Sarah and Marcell were sitting with their Slytherin friends," answered Brooke.

"Oh, alright," said Cass. "C'mon, let me go get my trunk to put on the train—I don't feel like lugging that thing all the way up to the castle."

"How'd you get here?"

"Knight Bus."

"Oh, that's awful."

"It really was. Poor Harry has a bruise on his head where he hit the window."

"You traveled with Harry?"

Cass wanted to slap herself. _Treacle tarts! _

"Not on purpose. He was taking the bus too." The lie stuck to the roof of her mouth, an icky substance. Brooke narrowed her eyes.

"Sure," she said sarcastically. "What's really going on, Cass? I mean, I in no way control who you hang out with, but suddenly—out of nowhere—you start sitting with _Harry Potter? _And then you disappear with him out of the blue days before Winter Break? Something's up, and obviously you just don't want to tell us.

"I do want to tell you, Brooke," said Cass in a small voice. "But . . . I can't."

"You can't?" echoed Brooke, her eyes hard.

"Yes. I can't."

"Or you won't." It was a statement.

Cass threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine, I won't! I'm—I'm so _sorry. _But this secret—I don't think I can handle it getting out. And"—she dropped her voice to a pathetic whisper—"I don't think I can handle the way you looked at me if I told you."

Brooke gave her a long look, and then with deliberate caution, she said, "Fine. Whatever. You don't have to tell me. I can understand keeping a secret like that, even if I don't like it."

"Thanks," Cass said earnestly. They arrived where Harry was waiting. "Hey, I'm going to travel back to the castle with my friends. It was funny running into you on the bus."

Harry gave her a confused look, but thank goodness he got it, for he said, "Yeah, er, small world. Hey, Brooke."

Brooke smiled in greeting, the months of D.A. having erased a lot of the awe she felt for the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well, thanks for watching my trunk. Bye, everyone." Cass waved to the Weasleys. She didn't see Hermione yet, so she would just have to ask her how her break was in the Gryffindor common room later. Harry smiled warmly in return. Cass couldn't help but notice that it was a very brotherly kind of smile.

Cass and Brooke ran into the others on the train. Happy to see her friends, Cass embraced everyone after she put her trunk in a compartment.

"Cass, what happened?"

"Why'd you leave early?"

"You weren't on the train . . . is everything alright?"

"You missed the best thing—Sarah told off Princess, called her a stuck-up wart right to her face . . . it was _priceless! _But where were you . . . ?"

"She's hiding something, she won't tell me, and she said she missed me most!"

"Brooke!" Cass snapped, rolling her eyes. "I missed you all _equally._ And . . . and we should probably leave the train, now. We can talk in the carriages. Oh, and Bello! You got your hair cut!"

Belle ran a hand through his now-short brown hair, smiling. "Thanks for noticing." He flashed his gaze to Brooke pointedly.

Brooke turned her nose up in mock indignation. "Cass is a Seer—of course she would notice. You can't blame me for not noticing."

Cass snorted. "I didn't use my third-eye to see that."

"Yeah, and besides, Rose, Janelle, Marcell and I noticed," put in Sarah.

"Cyrene did, too—and she was only in the compartment for a couple minutes!"

Brooke crossed her arms and frowned while everyone else sniggered.

The carriage ride up to the castle was . . . something. Definitely something. As soon as everyone had gotten situated, Cass found the attention of her friends focused directly on her. She cleared her throat.

"Okay . . ." She wondered how to say this without lying. It would be difficult. Looking at her friends' faces, she felt guilt like a blow to the gut. "Okay, so something's . . . happened."

"Gee, no kidding," muttered Marcell, gesturing with his hands in a way that said, 'Duh!'

"Cass, it's alright if you don't want to tell us. But we're here for you." Janelle was too good for this world.

Cass sighed. "It's . . . this secret—it's the kind of secret that people can get seriously hurt over."

Sarah looked thoughtful. "How about we ask you questions and you can either answer them or not?"

Cass liked that idea. Maybe it was cowardly, since it meant she didn't really have to talk, but she just wasn't ready for them to know. Especially since, if her vision of Brooke was anything to go by, the secret would get out if she told them.

Immediately, Rose blurted, "Why are you hanging out with Potter?"

Cass scrunched up her face; her friend had jumped right into the heart of the matter. Before she could answer, Brooke snapped her fingers in revelation.

"You Saw something about him—maybe something from his past, or his future, and that something has to be kept secret!"

That wasn't technically wrong.

"Yes," said Cass, nodding, her heart lightening. Maybe she could get away with telling her friends _just _enough information without letting them know the entire story.

"And you can't tell us because it isn't your secret to tell!" said Sarah, nodding like it made sense. Cass supposed it did make sense, and so far it was mostly true. Mostly.

"Which is why you're hanging out with him," continued Rose. "You Saw something about him, and then you two became friends over that shared secret."

"Exactly!" said Cass, beaming. This could work. She could weave around lying to them. Until . . .

"But then why did you leave early?" asked Sarah, frowning.

Cass's spirits plummeted, bracing herself for the guilt. "Well, the Weasleys left early too. It's because their father was . . . well, he was attacked at the Ministry. I Saw it happen and went to tell Professor McGonagall, and then I had to show Professor Dumbledore where it was that I saw the attack. By that point, there were only a few days left in the term, so he decided I could just go home. Said it'd probably be best to see my grandparents." Cass shrugged, feinting confusion. "I wasn't about to object."

The others still looked confused.

"But, what about Harry?" questioned Bello. "He left early too . . . ?"

"Oh, him. He's some friend of the Weasleys-well, you guys know. Him and Ron are best mates. I guess he just wanted to make sure Mr. Weasley was okay—I didn't really ask," lied Cass. Everyone shrugged, accepting her story. She felt dirty with dishonesty. The lies left a sticky residue in her mouth. Even having only known them a few months, she cared for her friends deeply. She didn't want to lie to them, but—and this ashamed her to no end—she also didn't want them to know the truth. It was a sad—and thin—line to walk.

The story had been composed by Moody and Remus. They both had kept it simple, concise, easily believable. Obviously, it couldn't get out that Cass had spent a good chunk of her break with the Weasleys at the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. And, perhaps even more importantly, it wouldn't do to have Harry's mysterious snake-vision become common knowledge. So, all the kids had rehearsed this story, being asked questions by Moody and Remus, and it would hold up against scrutiny. But that didn't mean Cass enjoyed lying to her friends.

Luckily, their carriage ride was coming to end. Gloriously alight with candle flames, Hogwarts towered ahead of them, an impassive castle. The sight reminded Cass of how permanent the school was. How many other children had walked through its gates? Surely some of them must have had bigger problems than her own. And all of them had found a home in Hogwarts. A home that wasn't tainted with Dark magic, a home where kids could be kids.

Strangely, it was a comforting thought.

OoOoO


	25. Deplorable Detentions

**DISCLAIMER: One and one makes two, if I don't write disclaimers, JKR will sue. **

**Gosh, that was horrible.**

**A/N: Hellooooooo! Enjoy and review! **

OoOoO

Umbridge, it turns out, wasn't just a controlling, prejudiced, stuck up bully of a teacher. As Cass carved her own writing into her wrist, scolding Harry silently for hiding the fact that he had gone through the same, she realized that Umbridge was pure evil.

Earlier that day, the first Tuesday back in school, Cass, Brooke, Sarah, and Marcell had been suffering through their mandatory DADA class. In between discreetly rolling their eyes at each other, pretending to read, half-heartedly practicing (read: failing) wandless magic in anticipation for the D.A. meeting tomorrow, and frowning at Umbridge, the professor called out in the otherwise silent room.

"Miss McGarther, if I could speak to you regarding your absence the last few days of term?"

Cass tore her eyes from her book and adopted a compliant expression with some difficulty. "Of course." She tacked on a half-hearted "ma'am" at the end. Wondering why the shuck the toad always picked on her, Cass got up and walked stiffly to Umbridge's desk.

"What do you want to know?" Cass wished the words didn't sound so loud in the silent classroom. She could feel the stares of the other students at her back, though she was sure they were pretending to work.

"As I understand it, there was some mishap at the Ministry?" asked Umbridge, her voice toxically sweet.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And why did you think it appropriate for you to involve yourself?"

"Er, because I had a vision, you see—"

"_Miss _McGarther," interrupted Umbridge snappishly. "Now, I believe we have talked about lying about you being a Seer in the past, have we not?" Not giving Cass a change to answer, the toad continued. "And you still claim to be one?"

"Yes," replied Cass, a defiant edge to her green eyes. She hoped her contempt of the professor showed.

"No," said Umbridge forcefully through gritted teeth. "You are not a Seer."

"I am." Cass knew she should stop, but she _so _did not want to. She could keep this up all day. Plus, she suspected her friends behind her were holding in laughter. She had to give them _some _entertainment in this class. Episodes like this happened to one of them at least once a week. She had a duty to her friends.

"Class!" announced Umbridge. "I know you can all hear mine and Miss McGarther's conversation. I implore you to ignore these nasty lies, just as you should ignore the malicious rumors of You-Know-Who being back spread by certain lying individuals."

Cass couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth. "They aren't rumors. I _Saw _him. And"—her voice took on a snappish edge—"Potter isn't a liar."

Dead silence reigned in the classroom. Not that it hadn't been silent before, but now . . . now it was as if everyone was holding their breaths, waiting to see what would happen, to see what the toad would do.

Then, with quiet triumph, Umbridge said, "Detention, Miss McGarther. Tonight, my office. You take that straight to Professor McGonagall to get it signed." She held a detention slip in her hand in a manner that reminded Cass of someone holding a weapon.

Cass gaped furiously, a million insults flooding her brain. She said none of them but hoped vigorously that Umbridge saw them in her stiff posture.

"Go now, inform your Head of House."

Cass's friends were looking at her with a range of emotions: Sarah was wincing, Marcell was holding up a weak thumbs-up, and Brooke was angry. Her Gryffindor friend shot a look of loathing at Umbridge, but Cass shook her head in a silent 'no'.

Gripping the detention in her hand, Cass left the class, her steps bordering on stomping. She should have known that was coming. Even without her Sight, she shouldn't have been _stupid _enough to fall for Umbridge's trap.

She arrived at the door to McGonagall's office and knocked on it.

"Come in," came the professor's voice. Preparing herself for her Head of House's disappointment, Cass walked in.

McGonagall looked up from the stack of parchments she had been grading. Sighing and taking off her reading glasses, she said, "You too, Miss McGarther?" Her sharp eyes were on the detention slip in Cass's hand.

Cass nodded mutely, looking at the inkwell on the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall, who had kept the secret from her right alongside Dumbledore, was not someone she necessarily wanted to talk to.

"Your brother's just gotten detention as well. Issued by Umbridge?"

Cass nodded again, still keeping her eyes stubbornly on the inkwell. Harry and her really were twins. They had the unique talent of ticking Umbridge right off.

"May I ask what for?"

"She said Voldemort—uh, You-Know-Who—was just a rumor. And she called Harry a liar."

"I see," said McGonagall. "Miss McGarther, you realize it's imperative that you remain hidden? That includes from the Ministry."

"I—"Cass shut herself up, admitting mentally that the professor might be right. She wasn't about to say that out loud though. "I was careful. I didn't reveal anything. I even called Harry 'Potter' to make it seem like we didn't know each other. Professor, why does Dumbledore put up with her?"

McGonagall's eyes turned strict. "You will refer to the headmaster respectfully, Miss McGarther. And to answer your question, Professor Dumbledore has no say in the matter. I wish it were not the case, but I'm afraid we're stuck with her."

Cass decided to ignore Professor McGonagall reprimanding her about Dumbledore, figuring she already angered one too many professors today.

After getting to slip signed, Cass returned with great dread to class. Umbridge grinned saccharinely at her, plucked the slip from her hand, and told her to get back to her reading. Deciding to live life on the edge, and figuring she hardly had anything left to lose, Cass left the Defense book closed the rest of the class, her arms crossed on the desk.

She could be quite the nuisance without even uttering a word.

OoOoO

Umbridge's office reflected her personality perfectly; overly sweet to a sickening, suffocating degree.

_Holy treacle tart, this woman loves pink_, Cass thought in disgust as she walked into detention. Pink carpeting, pink lace, pink paintings. Cass's nostrils were clogged with an overwhelming scent of flowers. Decorative plates sat on display, each showing _kittens_. _What an absolutely awful place to spend time in._

"Good evening, Miss McGarther," came a voice from behind the cloth-topped desk.

"Evening," Cass said stiffly, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Please have a seat. This will only take …oh, thirty minutes or so," said Umbridge, pointing to a small, lace-covered table with a straight-backed chair next to it.

Cass did as she was told and set her schoolbag on the floor next to her. _Thirty minutes too long_, she thought.

"There, now. Do you know why you're here?" Umbridge said in a sugary voice.

"Yes, of course. I should've been more respectful to you," Cass said as innocently as she could, choking back laughter as Umbridge's eyes bulged.

"I see you are missing the point, dear," the toad said tightly. "You are here because of the outright, attention-seeking, nasty, _stories _you told, Miss McGarther."

Cass almost said, 'I am?' but held her tongue. Instead, she settled for raising her chin pointedly and attempting a righteous gaze.

Umbridge smiled poisonously at Cass as if she knew Cass was struggling not to say anything. Although Cass would never admit this, the toad-like face and the saccharine smile were getting to her. _I am dealing with a sugar-coated monster here, _Cass told herself. She didn't let any of this show on the outside, though. No way was Cass going to give Umbridge that satisfaction.

Umbridge cleared her throat. "You will be doing lines today, Miss McGarther. Some of the older students have had to do it and they found it…quite unpleasant. For a first-year such as yourself, it won't be too bad…but do not tempt me, Miss McGarther. I do not condone selfish and dishonest behavior," she said with a nod, as if proud of whatever punishment she had concocted.

Cass started to take out one of her Self-Inking Quills but was interrupted. "No, no, no. You will use my quill," said Umbridge, extending a thin, long black quill.

As soon as Cass touched it, her vision flickered painfully.

_A bespectacled boy with unruly black hair and bright green eyes sat in a stiff-backed chair in front of a table draped in lace. He held an ebony quill with a fine point that was unusually sharp. _

_As he scribbled on a piece of parchment, the boy gave a quick gasp of pain. On the back of his hand were the words, 'I must not tell lies.' They were carved into his hand, the Seer realized in horror. _

Cass clumsily grabbed the quill from Umbridge's hand as her vison ended. _Oh my goodness…the monster! _Cass thought in panic. She was going to have to do that to her _hand_…and that was Harry! Her blood ran cold. Her brother had already gone through this, and by the looks of his face, the vision had been old. Months old maybe. How long had he been . . . ?

"You will write '_I must not spread untrue rumors,'"_ Umbridge told Cass softly. Cass stared at her with wide eyes; what kind of teacher was allowed to do this?

"How many times?" Cass asked with a creditable imitation of casualness. _I can't do this! _

"Just enough for it to _sink in_," replied Umbridge with a look of smugness about her.

Cass nodded, not trusting herself to speak. _What to do…_Cass suddenly had an idea. She 'dropped' the quill, murmuring, "My bad." Cass picked up the quill while taking a Color-Changing one from her backpack; from her desk, Umbridge couldn't see what she was doing. The quills didn't look exactly the same, but their plumes were of similar color and their handles were the same shade of black. Cass hurriedly straightened the plume of her quill to make it match Umbridge's and straightened up, Color-Changing Quill in hand and Devil Quill tucked safely in her robes' pocket.

Umbridge _tsked _softly.

"That will be another detention, Miss McGarther. Please use the quill I gave you."

Cass scowled at the professor. Internally, she was warring with herself. Prideful as she was, she could either suffer through the quill without giving Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing her upset or she could make a dash for it and go tell Dumbledore. Only . . . asking the no-good old codger for help was the last thing she wanted to do right now. And besides, what was that McGonagall had said? Dumbledore was losing power as headmaster. She doubted the Ministry would allow him to kick their puppet out. Cass realized she was well and utterly trapped.

"Begin writing now, Miss McGarther. All actions have their consequences."

_And all toads have their warts, _thought Cass. Exhaling angrily, she scrunched up her face and began to write. She wished her Sight had deigned to show her this happening. Then maybe she could have avoided this. It just served to remind how _not_ omniscient she was. She made a mental note to berate the treacle tarts out of Harry when this was over. Keeping something like this to himself. Honestly.

The pain was worse than she thought it would be.

Cass gasped as the quill wrote her own neat script into her arm, marking the beginning of a half hour of torture. After the first shock, Cass managed to keep her face clean of strain, even attempting pleasant—if underlined with disrespect—conversation with Umbridge.

"How was your day, Professor?"

"You will be silent for this detention."

"Mine was pretty boring, too. It's odd how one gets used to magic, isn't it?"

"I will give you more detentions."

That shut Cass up. She would have moved on to more forms of annoying the evil woman, but her arm was starting to really hurt. It was the worst sensation, writing lines knowing it would only result in agony for her. She tried pretending to write lines, but the toad quickly caught on and threatened more detentions. Cass could almost taste her own fury. What kind of world allowed teachers like this to hurt children? What kind of headmaster would let this happen under his nose? Cass already knew how unreliable Dumbledore could be, though, so she wasn't terribly surprised. But, holy mother of treacle tarts, her arm was on fire. She felt like screaming, swearing, crying—blood dripped on to the desk—

"You may stop," Umbridge announced after about thirty minutes. Cass made a point to finish the line she was working on, just to spite the toad. She had a strong proud streak. Her arm already hurt, might as well play it off coolly.

"Yes . . . almost done . . . there," said Cass, adding a period to the parchment with as much sass as she could muster.

"Miss McGarther, my quill, please," Umbridge said with a triumphant grin.

Cass handed her the quill and slung her bag over her shoulder. _Twisted, evil, insane…_

"Wait, dear, your arm please." Cass sighed and held up her poor arm, forcing a bored expression on her face.

Umbridge inspected her hand and looked proud of the bright red marks on it. _No teacher should treat students this way! _Cass silently screamed to herself. She couldn't believe Harry hadn't told anyone. _Honestly, _she thought, _how in the heck has Harry survived this long being so thick? _Had he told no one? But, thinking it over, Cass realized the last thing she wanted to do right now was go to Dumbledore for help. Maybe that made her stupid, but oh well. However, as she left Umbridge's office, Cass swore that she wouldn't let Umbridge get away with this, regardless of whether or not Dumbledore was aware of it. _Toad's going down. _

OoOoO

A very annoyed and tired Cass plopped herself down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. She had just gotten back from the loo, her arm slightly damp from rinsing it off. The red had hardly faded.

Brooke jumped a bit, splashing pumpkin juice onto face. "_Cass!" _

"Sorry," Cass grumbled, handing Brooke a napkin.

Brooke narrowed her eyes at Cass. "Was the detention that bad?"

Cass nodded her head glumly, her arm throbbing. She laid her head down and explained her awful evening to Brooke from underneath her arms.

Brooke's expression was mingled horror and shock and anger.

"Cass . . . you have to tell somebody."

"Actually, Brooke, I have a better idea. Obviously Umbridge has the backing of the Ministry behind her, so I don't think reporting this will help much. I was thinking more along the lines of . . . direct revenge."

"Direct revenge?"

Cass nodded, her expression still strained. "Imagine putting thumb tacks on the toad's chair and then think bigger. _Much _bigger."

Brooke flashed an evil grin. "Like a prank?"

"Bigger," said Cass. "It will need to be very well-planned."

Brooke gave Cass another grin. "Well, then. Looks like we'll just have to do some reconnaissance, won't we?" she said, grinning wider.

Despite her pain, Cass smiled back.

OoOoO

That night, in the Gryffindor common room, Cass approached her brother, a frown on her face. She couldn't get over the fact that he had hidden Umbridge's detentions from her. "Harry?"

He looked up from his conversation with Ron and Hermione. "Yes?"

Sighing, Cass sat down on the armchair next to him and looked him straight in the eye. "Why didn't you tell anyone about Umbridge's detentions?"

"WHAT?" Harry exclaimed loudly, drawing many heads to the small group. Cass did her best to ignore the confused glances. Harry cast his eyes around the room, but still whispered, "Do not tell me that she—that she made you _write _with that?" He sounded and looked furious.

"Yeah, actually, she did," she muttered angrily. "And the worst part? I _knew _what was going to happen. I _knew. _But not from you—I had a vision right before it happened."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You mean to tell me that the bloody—" he then said an unprintable word that caused Hermione to give him a furious gasp. "—made you write with it?"

"Yeah," said Cass, scowling. "You're missing the point here, though. Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have defended you in class if I knew it was going to happen!" Actually, she probably would have regardless, but Harry didn't need to know that. She was rather upset with him.

"You defended me?"

"Again, you're missing the point!"

"Was it bad? Please tell me she didn't hurt you too much."

Cass opened her mouth again to scold some sense into him (because she was bossy like that) but snapped it shut. He was looking at her worriedly, guilt and concern written all over his face, his hands shaking with what was clearly anger at Umbridge. She felt the berating words flee from her tongue. He looked like a brother. An older brother.

"No," she lied quietly. "It wasn't that bad."

"I'm sorry I kept it from you, Cass," he said genuinely. "I'm really sorry. This is going to sound mental, but I honestly hadn't thought of it. I haven't had a detention with the toad since—well, that day we found out—and my mind has been on other things. Actually, I have detention with her tomorrow night, so I was going to tell you tonight. I'm sorry."

"Okay, I believe you," said Cass, surprising herself. "I still think it was rather thick of you to let her get away with it."

"I didn't exactly feel like telling Dumbledore."

"Yeah, I don't either, but don't you want to get back at her?"

"I—" Harry paused, looking at Cass. "Get back at her how?"

"Wait a minute, Umbridge's nasty, but we really shouldn't—" began Hermione, but Cass cut her off.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it has to be good."

Harry still had a dark look on his face. "I can't believe she did that to you . . .

"I can," muttered Cass. "She's awful."

"That's an understatement," said Ron bitterly.

"Anyway, I thought it might be better to go at Umbridge head-on," said Cass.

"You? Head-on against a teacher?" repeated Ron, astonished.

Cass sniffed her nose. "Yes."

"Oh, I thought you were a Hermione-type—"

"Finish that sentence, Ronald," said Hermione daringly.

"Never mind."

Cass smiled at the bickering that had already become familiar to her. "Right, Brooke already said she and I could do some reconnaissance—you know, get familiar with the toad's schedule, know her office layout, and all that—"

"Could the D.A. get involved?" suggested Harry.

"Yeah, that's actually brilliant."

"Wonderful, we can go over it in the meeting in two days."

"Cass, do you think you could get some information on Umbridge before the meeting?" asked Ron.

"Of course. It should be a piece of cake for me—you know, with my Sight and all."

"Be careful," advised Hermione.

Cass smiled as the four dived into some rough planning of the revenge on the toad. This was going to be _brilliant_.

OoOoO

"Reconnaissance" didn't turn out too well. Cass and Brooke had used every method they could to spy on Umbridge; Cass's Vision, Cass's ability to be sneaky, Brooke's craftiness (that had landed them dangling from the ceiling in Umbridge's office That was the last time Cass had listened to Brooke). Brooke had even got sunglasses for the two to wear, which resulted in Cass whispering furiously, "_Why would we need sunglasses inside?! We look like idiots! Where did you even get those?"_

In the end, it had all been for naught. Cass and Brooke did not get one shred of useful information in their two-day investigation, only sideways glances from paintings and cobwebs in their hair from _dangling from a ceiling._ Cass still had the urge to smack her head with her hand when she thought of Brooke's horrible idea.

"Ugh! Nothing!" Brooke growled in frustration on Thursday afternoon, the D.A. "Two days of nothing. I knew we should have asked the others for help."

Cass gave Brooke a flat look. "_I _suggested that."

"Oh, right, well you should have pushed harder on that particular idea."

Cass resisted the urge to throttle Brooke.

OoOoO

"First, I hope you all had a fantastic Winter Break," began Harry that Thursday, the members of the D.A. listening with rapt attention. "Second, I want to conduct this meeting, er, differently. This week, we'll only be practicing spellwork for thirty minutes and wandless magic for ten. The rest of the time will—if you all are willing—be spent planning a prank on Umbridge."

The D.A. members looked confused at his announcement.

"What are we, the Weasley twins?" called out Smith. "I'm not here to be planning jokes on teachers."

"It'll just be one teacher, and for good reason," said Harry. "Tell me, have any of you ever had detention with the toad?"

A couple older Hufflepuffs paled and a fourth-year Gryffindor looked at the floor. Cass, predictably, raised her hand and spoke up, "I have. My friends know the story—the toad has this quill, you see, and it—"

"And it carves words into your hand," finished one of the Hufflepuffs. Harry thought his name was something Brown. "Me and my mate"—he gestured to the person beside him—"got into trouble for sticking up for you, Harry, and the old wart gave us detentions for a week."

"Thank you," said Harry quietly, moved they had stood up for him.

"It's bloody awful," added Brown's friend, nodding his head at Harry. "This quill . . . wait, hang on. McGarther, you said Umbridge made _you _go through that? You're just a first-year!"

Cass nodded, grimacing, and held up her arm. Faint red words could be made out on her lightly-tanned skin. Harry felt a surge of anger rise up in him, his fingertips warming with power. He had to remind himself that they whole point of today's meeting was to get back at Umbridge for doing this to students.

Everyone started shouting, appalled that Umbridge had used a Blood Quill on students. Over by the dummies, the Weasley twins stood up on a wooden block, above the crowd.

"Harry, mate, if we could lead this meeting? I believe pranks are our area of expertise," shouted Fred.

"You kidding? I was going to ask you two anyway!" replied Harry as the room quietened.

"Brilliant," grinned George. "Right, so first: do we have information on Umbridge? It's hard to pull pranks off without knowing the general routine of the victim."

Cass and her friend, Brooke, exchanged sheepish glances.

"Well, Cass and I tried to do some, er, recon, but we—we uh—"

"Failed miserably," said Cass dryly. "All we know is that she puts six scoops of sugar in her tea—also, she eats licorice with her scone in the morning."

There was a moment of awkward silence where everyone looked at Cass and Brooke as though they were stalkers.

"What?" said Cass. "I, uh, Saw that. You know, I had a vision."

"Licorice? With a scone?" intoned Angelica Johnson, a look of disgust on her face. "Merlin, what is _wrong _with this woman?"

"Actually, Cass, that could be useful," said George thoughtfully. Harry reckoned he didn't really want to know how George thought Umbridge's questionable breakfast choices were useful. "Could someone write that down?"

Hermione scrawled _Six sugar scoops in tea, licorice with scones _on a chalkboard that had suddenly appeared right next to her.

"Right," said Fred. "That's—uh—not the best starting point, but it's _a _starting point. Lee, I'm putting you in charge of recon—Cass, you should probably work with him. Chang, Johnson, you two are on supply detail. George and I are happy to provide the bulk of the items, but ask Harry for any money you'll need." Harry opened his mouth to protest, thought of the mountains of gold collecting dust in his vaults, and signaled he was okay with that idea with a thumbs-up. "Terry, Michael, get to work on ways of communication—sorry, Hermione, those coins aren't going to cut it for the elaborate planning of this prank . . ."

With the Weasley twins directing them, Dumbledore's Army got to work on the best prank Hogwarts had ever seen.

OoOoO

**A/N (part two): As we near the end of this year (this next semester will fly by swiftly) I figured a prank was just the thing to top off Umbridge's reign of terror. I always wondered what the D.A. could accomplish if really pushed . . . guess you all will find out in the next few chapters. Heads up, a prank isn't the big finale of this crazy year. It kind of pales in comparison to what I have planned . . . *laughs evilly* **


	26. Lessons Learned

**DISCLAIMER: Like everyone else on this site, I do not own Harry Potter. Unlike everyone else on this site, I have the tendency to spend hours at night crying over that fact . . . I really need some money . . . like really badly . . . I wonder, does JKR profit off her tweets too? Cuz if so, that's just unfair . . . **

**A/N: Helloooooooo! 200 FOLLOWERS! AHAHAHAHAH! Wasn't it just a few chapters ago I was celebrating 100 followers? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! **

**Also, for the people in the States, Happy Thanksgiving Week! For people who aren't in the U.S., I don't think you all celebrate Thanksgiving, since the holiday marks the cooperation between the colonists and the Native Americans, but I hope you all are having a fantastic week anyway. Just to let you all know, I'm estimating 5 (ish) chapters more in this part of the story. I do have sequels planned (I actually know how this entire story is going to end) but I'm debating whether to put them on a separate fiction or not. I really don't want to start over from scratch with all the followers and whatnot, but I also feel it will be better if I make it a trilogy. You guys can let me know in the reviews, if you want.**

**Enjoy! **

OoOoO

_The dark wings stood out distinctly in the city nightscape. Curvy hips and long legs made the figure look clearly feminine. The wings, spanning the woman's entire body length, were held erect, awaiting, it seemed, the command of the woman to fly away, up above the clouds, carrying their evil taint through the mists . . . _

OoOoO

"Harry, have you ever fought someone with, er, wings?"

His sister's question caught Harry off guard. Him, her, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in the common room, enjoying the Friday afternoon. Well, Cass and Hermione were enjoying themselves. Harry and Ron had the unfortunate task of writing a Transfiguration essay. Setting his quill down, Harry frowned at Cass.

"Er, no. It's pretty much only been Vol—You-Know-Who." He used the false name for Ron's benefit. "Why?"

Cass shook her head. "I don't know," she said, pulling the parchment she had been doodling on closer for Harry to see. Drawn in dark blue ink, a winged figure stood atop a cityscape. Only the figures outline could be seen, no clear features.

Cass continued with a thoughtful look in her eye. "I've seen this person before—dark skin, gorgeous, but with eyes like black marbles"—her finger moved to point out a woman's face at the bottom of the parchment—"I have no idea who she is. I Saw her last night, but she wasn't doing anything. Just staring at this building—I think it might have been in France. I could almost make at the Eiffel Tower in the distance." Harry took a closer look at Cass. Dark circles lined her green eyes, eyes that were filled with the hint at the visions she miraculously saw. She often looked that way—weary, full of sight, like despite her tiredness she could See straight into your soul.

"Can I see that?" asked Hermione, breaking Harry's reverie. Cass handed the parchment over to the older girl.

"Yeah, that's definitely Paris," confirmed Hermione. "See that building? It's shaped exactly like the Louvre."

"What about the wings? Last I checked, Parisian witches didn't have wings," said Ron, eager to be distracted from his homework. Though from what Harry could see, he hadn't gotten too far into it anyway.

"That's another thing—I get the feeling the wings aren't natural. It's, well, it's the same feeling I get whenever I see You-Know-Who." Cass crinkled her brow, obviously worried.

"Evil?" suggested Harry, his voice barely a whisper. That was troubling. He could barely take on Voldemort, and that was when he didn't have a little sister to worry about. Harry blinked; his little sister. Even after three weeks or so, the term continued to squeeze disbelief out of him.

Cass nodded in response, her eyes clouded with questions.

"Maybe it's just some random person who manage to grow wings by Dark magic?" suggested Hermione.

"I don't think it's random. I mean, it doesn't _feel _random."

Hermione tapped a finger to her chin. "I'll look in the library for any mentions of a winged lady in France. If there is anything on her, it shouldn't be that difficult to find—there can't be many winged women flying about, surely."

"No, I don't suppose there are," said Cass. "But don't bother. You won't find anything."

Hermione blinked, her only sign of surprise at Cass's blatant show of power.

"Have you had any other dreams about the hallway, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Maybe it's connected."

"How?" questioned Ron. He flicked a speck of dust from the table. "What's some winged lady in France got to do with the Department of Mysteries?"

"Just that Cass Saw her, really," said Hermione with a thoughtful narrowing of her eyes. "So, have you, Harry?"

"Yeah," edged Harry slowly. "You-Know-Who still wants the prophecy from there. But he feels more cautious—he clearly knows the Order has their eyes on him, maybe even a trap ready for him to spring, so he hasn't done anything."

"Maybe we should keep this down, guys?" advised Ron, his eyes on a couple second-years a few meters to the left.

"They can't hear us—I've got a sound ward around us," said Hermione proudly. "Professor Flitwick said it might be difficult, but I read ahead on next year's material . . ."

"Wicked," commented Cass, admiration for Hermione in her eyes. "I'd better go, though—my friends and I are taking a walk around the lake." She pulled on some mittens and waved farewell, smiling.

"Goodbye!"

"See you at dinner!"

As soon as Cass left, Hermione turned her quill to point at Harry and Ron chidingly. "You two have barely even started on your Transfiguration essay!"

Ron puffed out his cheeks and blew, glumly picking up his quill and beginning to write once more. He didn't get very far into his essay before he gave up and started peering at Hermione's parchment.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't pick up his quill at all. The Transfiguration essay remained blank before him. His eyes, troubled and pensive, were glued to the drawing Cass had left behind, the image of the winged woman burned into his retinas.

Was it just his imagination, or did his scar prick looking at it?

OoOoO

January passed in a flurry of snow and a mountain of homework. D.A. meetings had slowed down in anticipation for the Quidditch game of Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, but Cass and her friends still made the point to go practice whenever a meeting was cancelled. Neville Longbottom, Ginny, and Luna Lovegood often joined them, apparently just as eager as the first-years to learn defensive magic. Much to Cass's excitement, Luna and Cyrene thought of Levitating objects and walking on them. Ginny suggested they Levitate their shoes—the first few tries had been rather rough and painful, but soon nearly everyone got the hang of it (excluding Bello and Neville, but that could be chalked up as nerves). Umbridge's classes were, for the most part, boring, but Cass made up for the monotonous reading by glaring at the toad most of the time. Prank planning had been put on hold so the teams could practice for Quidditch but that didn't mean she could forget what Umbridge had done. Even more boring than DADA was History, which was to be expected. The rest of her classes were fun, except for Potions. That class was just stiffly awkward, and Snape was just a slimy git.

Cass continued to See the winged lady almost every night. Most of the time the woman was just sitting atop a roof, staring at something, something . . . nothing. For the life of her, Cass couldn't understand what this woman was doing. It ticked her off to no end, almost getting to the point where she was tempted to tell Dumbledore. She wasn't _quite _that desperate, though.

So, instead, she and Hermione made sure to check the _Prophet _every morning for news of a winged lady (though most mornings Cass Saw that nothing had happened before the mail even arrived). Plus, Hermione looked in the library for information on human transfiguration. Apparently, this girl could simply whip out a pass for the restricted area any time of the day.

Then, on the last week of January, Cass bore witness to something spectacular. It happened in the last D.A. meeting of the month.

During their wandless magic practice time, Harry wielded the most impressive bit of wandless magic in the club's entire history.

Cass's eyes pricked while she attempted to lift a feather, and a second later she whipped her head to the right, her eyes wide. Noticing this, Brooke and Cyrene nudged the others and pointed to where Cass was looking.

Harry sat cross-legged in the center of a ring of dummies, palms resting on his thighs. Cass watched him closely, wondering how her brother was going to accomplish what he had in her vision—flinging the dummies away from him. Feeling proud of Harry, she, along with her friends, witnessed something . . . magical.

A fierce look of determination on his face, Harry whispered, _"Depulso!" _and flicked his wrists in a sharp movement. With a loud clattering, the dummies around him shoved themselves away from Harry, flung violently with an invisible pulse of power.

The room, just seconds before filled with muttered spells, went quiet.

Harry opened his eyes, blinking at the fallen dummies.

"Er . . ." he said awkwardly into the silence.

Despite having known that would happen, Cass gaped with shock. "Harry, that was _brilliant!" _

The room broke out in congratulatory remarks, awed comments, questions on how Harry did that, and demands for him to teach them.

Harry brushed off the admiration humbly and immediately began talking on how he did it. Cass listened attentively, determined to accomplish that kind of magic one day. She made a point to give her brother a big hug afterwards, extremely proud of him.

After that meeting, the members of D.A. put in renewed efforts in their wandless magic. Several members could now levitate objects with ease, most of the older students could achieve small transfigurations, and Luna Lovegood had managed to cast the Disarm Charm more than once. Cass now spent thirty minutes every day practicing with Brooke in their dorm room; sometimes, she could hear Brooke muttering incantations in the wee hours of the morning, when neither of them could sleep. Pauline didn't seem to notice or care. Cyrene, brilliant researcher that she was, found a whole list of easy wandless magic spells for the first-years to cast, and now even Bello could at least levitate something one time out of three.

And so the first two weeks of February passed as well, with the second Friday seeing Cass cast a levitation spell without her wand ten times in a row. With the exciting Quidditch game this weekend and finally getting a grip on this wandless magic thing, things were looking nice. Quite nice. Cass spent loads of time with Harry, and slowly, the awkward tension between them dissipated.

Like she said, things were looking nice.

OoOoO

"Cass! Wake up!"

Brooke's voice spoke of sheer impatience. The sharp sunlight pricking her eyes, Cass threw a pillow in the general direction of her friend's voice, hopping it clonked her right upside the head.

"It didn't even come close," Brooke informed her with a laugh.

Cass sighed and rolled over, taking a blanket with her into the bathroom. Her tired reflection stared back at her, wrapped in a standard Hogwarts bed quilt. She recalled that today was the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor and perked up.

"The match is today!" she said excitedly to Brooke.

Her friend nodded sarcastically. "Really? No kidding."

Cass bristled and flipped her hair behind her shoulder indignantly. "I'm tired, okay?" she said defensively. "What time is it?"

"Half past seven," answered Brooke as she pulled a brush through her strawberry blonde hair.

"The match starts at nine-thirty?" confirmed Cass.

Brooke nodded.

"Okay, do we still have some paint left over from last match?"

"Yeah, let me go get it . . ."

For the next half hour, Cass and Brooke got ready for the match in swirls of red and gold. With painted lions on their cheeks, their hair done up in braids, and Gryffindor scarves around their necks, they left the dormitory, waving a hasty goodbye to Pauline, who hadn't even risen from bed yet.

Dodging questions of who was going to win, Cass and Brooke made their way over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall. On the way, they spotted Rose and Cyrene sitting with Marcell and Sarah at the Slytherin table and waved. The four of them wore Slytherin House colors. Bello and Janelle were over at the Hufflepuff table, each wearing a red-and-gold scarf around their necks. Cass grinned at them in greeting.

"'Morning, Cass, Brooke," said Harry. He wore the leather uniform of a Quidditch player. "I like the face paint."

"Thanks," said Cass, nibbling on some bacon. "Are you nervous for today?"

"Nah," said Harry dismissively. "Just excited—we've been working on some wicked plays this past month, I can't wait to put them to action."

"Is it true you caught your first Snitch in your mouth?" demanded Brooke as she drowned her pancakes in syrup.

"Er, yeah."

"And then, the year after that a rogue Bludger chased after you?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Well, yes, but it was only because of this house-elf—"

"And then the year after that—"

"Brooke!" interrupted Cass exasperatedly. "Let Harry eat his breakfast." Harry nodded at her in thanks.

"Sorry," muttered Brooke. "It's just—"

"Shh, I'm having a vision."

"Oh, right. I'll be quiet."

Cass pursed her lips, enjoying a few seconds of silence before her friend caught on.

"Hey, you've never spoken while having a vision before," Brooke accused.

"You could learn a thing or two about not speaking yourself," said Cass with barely concealed laughter.

"Yeah, well—"

"Alright, you two let us have our breakfast in peace," grumbled Ron, his mouth full of toast.

Cass looked at him flatly while Harry said, "Oh, don't like the bickering?"

"No, actually, it's about the bloodiest annoying—oh."

"Oh," echoed Cass sarcastically, looking at Ron and Hermione pointedly.

"Well," said Hermione coolly. "You might be interested to learn that I found something on human transfiguration."

Cass perked up. "Brilliant, what is it?"

"Human transfiguration?" asked Brooke before Hermione could answer.

"Oh, remember that winged lady I was telling you about?" asked Cass. "Well, I told Hermione about her too, and she's been looking in the library for methods on how the woman accomplished it."

"Oh," said Brooke. "Are they any ways you can give yourself wings?" She looked excited at the prospect, something Cass might have shared (wings? That would be wicked!) had she not known how _wrong _the winged lady felt. Unnaturally wrong.

"Not any pleasant ones," said Hermione, shuddering slightly. "I have a parchment in my bag. To put a long explanation short, human transfiguration the likes of that lady's can only be done with advanced Dark potions and Dark spellwork."

"Brilliant," Cass deadpanned. "As if one wasn't enough."

Hermione grimaced in agreement. "I can show you the book after the game, if you'd like. I wouldn't recommend it, though."

Cass shook her head. "It's alright, I don't need to know the grimy details."

"Speaking of the game, Cass, who wins?" Brooke asked.

Cass scrunched up her face. "Don't ask me—I'm trying really hard not to See." She could almost feel a vision coming on. _No, no, no, no, NO! _Exercising her will, she pushed it back firmly. She was thoroughly surprised when it worked.

"C'mon, it's got to be us," said Ron. "We've got Harry."

His comment nearly broke Cass's mental wall. Her eyes flicked and she got an image of Harry running across the field . . . _no. _"Ron, I'm _trying _to keep it out. It's never worked before, so if you could please be quiet . . ."

"Quidditch, quidditch, quidditch!" said Brooke jokingly.

Cass flashed her an annoyed look, then, on a whim, levitated Brooke's spoon wandlessly out of her hand. It wobbled precariously before falling on the table with a _clunk!_

"Nice job," said Harry, smiling proudly at her.

"Cass!" exclaimed Brooke heatedly.

"Thanks, Harry," said Cass, feeling extremely proud of herself. "And, Brooke, you know you're impressed."

"Impressed? Sure. Happy you magicked my spoon away? No," said Brooke crossly.

Cass smirked and finished her breakfast, feeling quite pleased with herself. After months of practice, she was finally getting some results. An hour later, her arms linked with Brooke, Janelle, and Bello, Cass walked into the Quidditch stadium, thrilled to see the match. Her face, slightly set in determination to not receive a vision, was red from the cold but she couldn't care less. Keeping her Sight at bay (albeit with a treacle-tart-ton of willpower), Cass might actually enjoy the game.

Halfway through the match, with Gryffindor leading heavily, the Slytherin team called for a break. So far, despite Brooke's and Ron's incessant questions, Cass had managed to hold back her visions. She should have _known _better. Eventually, she would learn her lesson not to push away her Sight. But today was not that day, as the events occurring soon pointed out.

Both teams on the ground, Cass noticed Draco Malfoy strutting with a set attitude towards Harry. Sensing something was off, she dropped the barrier hastily. Her eyes pricked painfully, as though her gift was upset it had been suppressed so long and now it was violently flooding in.

Cass gasped.

_Three boys—two redheads and a black-haired—rushed at a blonde boy in green robes. Faces furious, the three boys pummeled the blonde one, who, despite wincing in pain, looked distinctly triumphant . . . _

_Flick. _

"_No Quidditch for the rest of the year!" exclaimed a toad-faced woman, brandishing her finger angrily. The three boys from before stared back with silent impunity. "And your brooms will be confiscated! AND you will all three serve detention for the rest of February." Then, in a softer voice, she added to the blonde boy, "Don't you worry dear, I'm sure the nurse will fix you right up . . . and of course Gryffindor will be disqualified . . ." _

_Flick. _

"_You three got yourselves into this!" screeched a stern-looking witch clad in red robes. "I quite agree with Professor Umbridge's punishments . . ." _

With a lurch, Cass was back. Ron and Brooke looked at her expectantly, wanting to know who won.

"Treacle tarts!" muttered Cass, peering down below. She could already see Malfoy making his way over to the Gryffindor team.

"Did we lose?" cried Brooke in disappointment.

"No—gotta stop them—what are they thinking? Er, what _will _they be thinking . . . ?" Cass grabbed the nearest hand—Ginny's—and rushed through the crowd. She had to stop Harry, Fred, and George from attacking Malfoy . . . she was the thickest idiot for trying to stop her vision . . .

"Cass—where—what did you See?" demanded Ginny.

"Go, go, go—before it's too late!" said Cass. The two of them took the stairs three at a time, Cass explaining on the way.

"No, they love Quidditch!" said Ginny worriedly. "Damn, Malfoy's already talking to them—I don't think we'll make it!"

The two of them emerged from the stands, stumbling from the steep steps. "Harry!" Cass shouted in vain. Her brother was already marching towards Malfoy. "OI! STOP! HARRY, GEORGE, FRED STOP!" She sprinted across the field, drawing the heads of everyone in the stands. "HARRY, YOU'RE GOING TO GET YOUR BROOM TAKEN AWAY!" Her brother didn't hear her, or perhaps he didn't care, because he was already swinging his arm back . . .

"_Expelliarmus!" _

The spell hit Harry, Fred, and George in the chest. From the distance Cass had cast it, it probably hadn't hurt much, but it was enough to send the three boys to their bums. Malfoy twirled around in surprise, his eyes going wide when he saw Cass and Ginny.

"Bloody hell, Cass," breathed Ginny. "That was wandless. Damn, that was wandless! How are we going to explain a first-year using wandless magic?!"

Cass realized her wand was still in her robe pocket. "Uh oh . . ." Had she made it worse? "Treacle tarts. Sorry."

"Umbridge is coming—No, stay there! _Stay there!" _Ginny gestured frantically at the Gryffindor team to stay away, obviously not wanting them to be disqualified for foul play.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," said Cass quickly, her words falling out in a rush. "I should have just let the vision come—I could've warned Harry beforehand and we wouldn't be in this situation . . . I'm such an _idiot."_ She would have gone on berating herself had Umbridge not swooped in like the vulture she was.

"Miss Weasley, Miss McGarther," said the toad coolly. "My office—now!"

Behind her, Hermione, Brooke, Janelle, Bello, and Ron hung back in the stands, their faces shocked. Janelle and Bello seemed to be holding Brooke back while Hermione had a hand on Ron's shoulder, clearly telling him to hold himself back. Over by the Gryffindor team, Harry was looking at Cass with concerned shock while Fred and George glared at Malfoy. She shrugged her shoulders at her brother, almost shamefully wanting to blame him for what just happened but knowing it was her fault. Stupid Cass. Stupid visions. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Ginny nudged Cass to get moving. Sighing and regretting every life decision leading up to this point, Cass suffered through the humiliation of having Umbridge the Toad lead her and Ginny across the Quidditch pitch in front of the whole school. In the back of her mind, Cass thought there was a lesson to be learned in this experience: sometimes she might not want to See the future but that didn't mean it didn't exist. Actions have consequences. Visions have lessons. Cass thought it might take a while for her to learn that.

The walk up to Umbridge's office happened in silence. With frequent glances at each other, Cass and Ginny walked stiffly behind Umbridge, dreading the punishments to come. Cass felt horribly guilty about the whole thing; if she had just _let _the vision come, this whole fiasco could have been avoided. _But, no, _she thought furiously, _you just had to try and be surprised by the stupid Quidditch game!_

The office was, like the last awful time Cass had been cursed to be there, suffocatingly pink. The aroma of toxic sweetness clogged her nose.

"Please have a seat, both of you," said Umbridge, her expression lividly controlled.

Cass remained standing for a good five seconds just to smite the professor before begrudgingly sitting down in the stiff-backed chairs in front of the desk. Ginny, somehow having more nerve than herself, waited a solid two seconds more.

"Now," said Umbridge delicately. "What on _Earth _possessed you two to interrupt a student event in such an _atrocious _manner?"

Knowing how well it would go over, her head held high, Cass said, "A vision."

Umbridge's face was about as red as a cherry. It was boiling over with anger. Cass swallowed, legitimately concerned for a second before telling herself firmly she could deal with this power-crazy, toad-looking hag.

"A vision, hmm?" said Umbridge through gritted teeth. "And did this—_hem_—vision warn you of the consequences of your actions?"

"No," said Cass, hating that the toad had a point. "I'm not omniscient, you see—"

"Enough!" demanded Umbridge, slamming her palm down on the table. "I will not hear of this anymore! The next time you say 'vision', you will have detentions for the rest of the year!"

Cass scrambled to come up with a reply that could get away with being respectful yet have clear undertones of disrespect. She thought of nothing and settled for a tight, "Yes, _ma'am." _

"I ask you both again: what prompted you to perform harmful magic on your fellow students?"

It was Ginny who spoke up next. "It's my fault, Professor. I—well, Cass and I were on our way to the loo. And—er—we saw Potter and his friends—my brothers, if you can believe it—walking towards Draco. And . . . well . . . this is inappropriate, I know, but I have this—I fancy Draco, you see—and I thought they were about to hurt him or something. But they weren't, I don't think, and I acted out rashly. I'm sorry."

Cass gaped. Ginny shot her a look and she hurriedly closed her mouth and nodded, confirming the lie. Treacle tarts, Ginny worked well under pressure. It was pretty ironclad. It offered an explanation, played it whole fiasco off as "teenage girl drama", and Umbridge likely wouldn't repeat it seeing as how it would seem unbecoming of a woman her age spreading such gossip. Cass was impressed.

Umbridge looked flabbergasted for a second, obviously trying to find a lie in Ginny's story. "That is _no _excuse, Miss Weasley. None at all. Did you believe admitting your—er—feelings for Mr. Malfoy would exempt you from punishment? And you, Miss McGarther—lying about visions and Seers and whatnot! The both of you will be banned from any future school trips, you'll serve detention in this office this entire next week, and I expect a formal apology to Mr. Malfoy come Monday morning." Umbridge smiled sweetly. "_With _that wonderful explanation you provided me, Miss Weasley."

Ginny paled and genuinely looked like she was going to cry for a second before pulling herself together. Cass felt another bout of guilt—now poor Ginny would have to admit feelings for Malfoy just to keep up with the lie she had created, a lie that would have never been necessary had Cass just received the vision. Judging from the evil look in her eye, Umbridge knew it had been a fib, too.

"Wait, Professor, please don't make Ginny do that," said Cass pleadingly. "That's not fair—I was the one who—"

Umbridge _tsked. _"More lies, Miss McGarther? Between you and Miss Weasley, I suspect there's enough dishonesty for the whole school. I'll see you both in my office at seven P.M. sharp Monday morning. Oh, and do inform your Head of House about this. I suspect she's looking for you both right now."

McGonagall wasn't much better. She was waiting outside her office, her expression livid, her fist clutched around a red-and-gold scarf.

"In!" she said furiously, quivering with rage.

Cass crossed her arms and entered the room, Ginny swallowing nervously behind her.

"_Well?" _she demanded. "Explain yourselves!"

"I had a vision," said Cass tautly.

"A vision?" shouted McGonagall, tossing the scarf to the floor. "What, do tell, was this vision about? So help me, McGarther, it better be good."

"Harry and the twins were going to pummel Malfoy. They would've been banned from Quidditch, stripped of their brooms—by Umbridge, by the way, not you—and then given detentions for the rest of the month!"

"Why didn't you just warn your—uh—Potter before the match, then?" demanded McGonagall. "I would like to think he has enough sense to not do that on his own, but as I understand it your visions come early, yes? Well?"

Cass had winced. "They do. I—uh—I kept it back. I didn't want to See the outcome of the game . . ." she trailed off, realizing how pathetic her excuse was mid-sentence.

"I'd think, Miss McGarther, that you would have enough sense to be grateful for this gift," said McGonagall, frustrated. Cass resisted the urge to wince again. As much as she deplored admitting it, the professor was right.

"Aside from rushing recklessly onto the field and intentionally pressing back against your gift, you two—or one of you—cast the Disarm Charm against your brother, or brothers in Miss Weasley's case. Care to explain how, since neither of you had your wands out?"

"Accidental magic?" said Ginny weakly.

McGonagall's eyes flared with anger. "Which one of you performed the wandless magic?"

"I did," admitted Cass glumly, feeling like a traitor. What would everyone in the D.A. say?

"_How?" _

"By saying _Expelliarmus?" _

"You just earned yourself a week's detention, McGarther," said McGonagall coldly. "Tell me, how did a first-year master a skill that isn't taught until seventh-year, _if_ it is even taught at all?"

"I found some works in the library and started practicing every spell I learned wandlessly. I guess not getting used to casting it with a wand helped," said Cass cautiously. Technically, she wasn't lying.

"Disarm Charms are not on the first-year curriculum," stated McGonagall dryly, calling Cass out.

"No, they're not," said Cass truthfully. "But—er—I've kind of taken Defense Against the Dark Arts into my own hands, Professor."

"I see," said McGonagall. "And Miss Weasley, have you anything to say?"

"Er . . . not really. I barely knew what was happening."

"You're excused, then. I will revoke any punishment Professor Umbridge has given you—I'm not so powerless as to not have any control over my own students."

"Thank you, Professor," said Ginny gratefully. Cass smiled, glad her friend had dodged the bullet. It was only fair after all, since Cass was the one who put her in the path of the bullet in the first place.

After Ginny left, McGonagall turned to Cass. "I don't know what possessed you to throw your brother and Mr. and Mr. Weasley to the ground or why you thought it wise to ignore your visions, but I hope today has taught you something valuable. You will serve detention for the rest of February, you will spend an hour daily helping the house-elves with their chores, and you will not make this mistake again, am I clear?"

"Yes," said Cass curtly. _It's not as though I hurt him! He was going to be banned from Quidditch! _"Er, Umbridge already gave me detention all next week."

McGonagall sighed. "I would have Dumbledore revoke those, but right now would not be a good time for him to . . . Never you mind. If that's the case, you can serve detention next week with, ah, _Professor _Umbridge and serve the following two weeks after that with me."

"Alright," said Cass with a sigh. "Professor—did we—oh, yes! We won!" Cass had gotten the vision mid-sentence: Harry's gloved hand holding the Golden Snitch triumphantly.

McGonagall didn't smile. "You're dismissed, Miss McGather."

Cass left the room. Taking a pit stop at the loo, she examined her reflection. Her lion face paint looked sad, dripping from sweat and appearing deflated.

"You idiot," she snapped to herself. "Thick, pig-headed _idiot._ Treacle tarts for brain."

And then, because she figured she had told herself off enough, she gave herself a small, forced smile. "But I cast the spell wandlessly."

That was something, at least. Enough to lift some of the guilt and enough to let Cass walk out of the bathroom feeling slightly better for herself. She could learn from this. She _would _learn from this.

The future didn't filter itself, but that didn't mean it wasn't worth listening to.

OoOoO

"Harry!" Cass called, spotting him leaving the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Harry!" A steady crowd of students were hiking back up to the castle, the Quidditch game over.

Harry's head whipped toward the sound of his name being called, his expression turning relieved when he saw Cass. "Cass! What happened?"

"Er . . ." said Cass, making her way over to her brother. "I Saw that you were about to attack Malfoy."

"I figured that much out for myself," said Harry dryly. "I mean, the wandless magic . . . ? That was brilliant, but—"

"I know, I'm sorry, you're not hurt, are you?" asked Cass, guilty that she had thrown Harry and the twins to the ground.

"Nah, it wasn't that powerful," said Harry, smirked when Cass made an affronted noise (not powerful? She was plenty powerful, thank you very much!) "But why'd you do it?"

"To stop you from pummeling Malfoy."

"It's _Malfoy?" _Harry emphasized his confusion with a gesture of his hands.

"I know, but he's like this"—Cass locked her fingers together—"With Umbridge. She would've taken you off the team permanently."

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, thanks for—er—stopping me then." He seemed to come to a revelation. "Wait, how did she punish you and Ginny? She can't have been too happy with you two for marching across the field like that."

"You're right, she wasn't," said Cass. "Neither was McGonagall—that woman can be downright terrifying sometimes. But Ginny pretty much got off the hook—I was the one who did all the actual casting. Umbridge gave me detentions all next week and McGonagall gave me detentions for two weeks after that. Oh, and I have to spend an hour cleaning with the house-elves every day for the next month."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Detentions with the toad all next week? You shouldn't have to go through that for me."

Cass shrugged. "Could be worse."

"Worse than carving your own words into your arm?" asked Harry shrewdly.

Wincing, Cass shrugged again. "I'll think of something. Switch the quills, threaten to tell Dumbledore, I dunno."

"Tell her about the licorice she has with her morning scone?" suggested Harry, a slow grin spreading on his lips.

"She might actually pop a vein with that one," said Cass, grinning back.

Laughing, the two of them walked back up to the castle together, the Gryffindors around them singing a triumphant chant.

OoOoO


End file.
